


Crossing the Line

by gatekat, Verilidaine



Series: The Making and Breaking of a Trine [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Noble Culture, Seeker culture, Spark Bond, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 138,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl/Starscream centric story.<br/>When a device from Shockwave sends Starscream undercover in Mirage's frame, the Seeker's plan to destroy Autobot morale by seducing Prowl backfires rather spectacularly -- on Megatron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Changing Things Around

**Author's Note:**

> I make no excuses for this one. It started out to be a Prowl/Mirage story with minimal universe disruption. It decided to go somewhere else a lot longer and much bigger.

Starscream crossed his arms over his cockpit as he listened to Shockwave explaining his latest invention to a very pleased looking Megatron. He was personally dubious, and could already see holes big enough to fly through in the predictably developing plan, but Megatron was looking positively gleeful. 

The device had successfully switched the sparks of two test subjects into each other's frames. A horrifying thought, but they had then been switched back to report full awareness of themselves during the switch, while having access to the frame's knowledge and memories. And of course, Megatron wanted to use it to gain intel from an Autobot. 

The fact that _none_ of them knew enough about Autobot culture to blend in properly didn't seem to have occurred to him and Starscream wasn't even trying to hide his optic roll or stop his wings from flicking condescendingly. When the Autobot went back into its frame, it would also have all of the _Decepticon's_ memories, so unless they were willing to risk the wrath and warfare that would come from botnapping and murdering their choice of a senior officer, their secrets would be just as exposed.

" _Lord_ Megatron, this is absolutely ludicrous," he finally said when he couldn't stand watching Shockwave roll around in his leader's praise any longer. 

Predictably, the large mech turned on him. "It is far better than anything _you_ have brought me. The device actually works."

Starscream scoffed. "It has worked on _one_ pair of test subjects, of similar frame type and function specifications, who were already familiar with each other before the exchange. It _hasn't_ been tested with _real_ parameters." He waved his hand dismissively at the device and Shockwave. "This is a disaster waiting to happen. But oh, wait, it's doomed to fail, so I shouldn't be surprised that you like it so much, _oh glorious leader_."

Megatron sneered at his SIC. "If it fails, it will be on your helm. You will exchange places with the next Autobot we capture on Earth."

Starscream's wings twitched. He really should have expected that. " _Lord_ Megatron," he said, as sweetly as he could manage. 

"Starscream," the warlord answered, looking patiently amused. 

"I believe, in the interests of the _Decepticons_ , that further tests would be--" 

"A waste of time," Megatron said, starting to turn away. "Shockwave is confident in his device. I have made my decision." 

"But, my Lord," Starscream whined, and he knew it sounded disgusting pitiful. "The Autobots, they're--they're--" 

"They're _what_ , Starscream?" Megatron snapped, whirling back on him. 

Starscream flinched away. "They're all _grounders!_ "

The scowl he received came with a warning whirl of the fusion cannon beginning to power. "I can make your change in frame permanent and put someone more _agreeable_ in those wings."

Starscream's optics flicked to the canon as he tried to decide how far he could push right now. "I am only suggesting caution, my Lord, and that we think this out more thoroughly before jumping right--"

"Starscream." Megatron said as the cannon powered up to the next level. "If you do not wish to lose your wings temporarily, I can make it permanent and send Thundercracker in your place."

Starscream winced. Not a pushing day. " _Yes_ , my _Lord_ Megatron," he bit out. "I'll play your _fracking_ dress-up game."

Megatron nodded in satisfaction and his cannon powered down. "Send the device. It will be used in the next battle."

"Yes, Lord Megatron," Shockwave said before Soundwave closed the connection at Megatron's nod.

* * *

"Megatron: Ravage requests your attention." Soundwave announced, alerting both the other commanders on the bluff with him.

The Decepticon warlord glanced in the direction Soundwave motioned and saw the sleek black cassette alt dragging a lightly built pale blue and white mech towards them. The Autobot was unconscious and oozing energon from a dozen long cuts, but even untreated the damage would not be fatal.

" _Excellent_ work, Ravage!" he praised, striding over to examine the Autobot spy. "Come, Starscream, let us take a look at your new frame for the next metacycle." 

"The _spy?_ " Starscream said disdainfully as he followed Megatron and Soundwave, wings drooped low. "You realize he will also have access to _my_ processors."

"Only so much as he can gather in the moments before he is locked away," Megatron said with a gleeful grin as Ravage shifted to flip the mech to his back and lay him out, then went to sit at his host's pede. "He will learn very little in stasis."

"You don't _know_ that," Starscream muttered, questioning his leader's sanity at giving the _spy_ access to his frame. Even incapacitated he was a threat. 

"What was that?" Megatron asked mildly. 

"I said, I should have known that," Starscream said sweetly. "But may I ask--what are you going to do when they send me on a mission and I end right back up where I started?"

"Ravage, scratch him up more. Ensure he is not sent anywhere for a good while, but is still moderately mobile," Megatron smiled in reply. The felineoid symbiot lunged forward without hesitation, leaving many more deep gashes and bite marks in the already incapacitated frame.

Starscream winced at the incredibly painful looking wounds that Ravage was inflicting with deadly precision. "Do you have to-- Not--" 

"Starscream, you're acting as if you're _unfamiliar_ with pain," Megatron chuckled. "Ravage, sever the lines to the lower primary sensory net." 

" _What?_ " Starscream screeched. "That will take _grafts_ and charge therapy--" 

"And it will keep you out of service for quite a while," Megatron said. 

"Plan: effective," Soundwave added. "Ratchet: highly skilled medic."

"I hate you both," Starscream hissed as Ravage did as he was told with deft precision. 

"Ravage, that is enough," Megatron said, then handed a vial to Starscream. "Drink this and touch the Autobot so we can begin the transfer."

"I swear to Primus if this damages my frame I am going to spill every secret you have," Starscream said as he snatched the drug that was going to fog his processors and limit his movement. He suppressed the very real shiver of fear from showing in his wings, because he was going to become completely incapacitated as soon as this hit his lines, and being completely incapacitated around Megatron was never a sound strategic decision. The thought was pushed aside before he downed the vial and knelt, placing his hand on the spy's arm. 

Soundwave placed the device so that it was touching both of them, switched it on, and then stepped very quickly back. 

There was a very strange moment of _pulling_ that Starscream was sure wasn't the drug, and then blackout.

* * *

Starscream's vision came online and he found himself staring at ... _orange_. Ugly, glaring, _orange_. "Ugh, wha-- _what?_ " What was wrong with his _voice?_

Oh, right, he wasn't in his frame.

"Ravage." A voice that was inherently terrifying to every Decepticon who knew it answered him. "Damn Con severed some important neural cables."

Starscream groaned. This was real. It was happening. And it felt weird. He knew who he was but the memories of it were a little ... vague. They lacked the sharp precision that came from exact visual and auditory recordings. He tried to access memories from the frame he was currently in, and they weren't lining up properly. He was going to be _so fragged off_ if this didn't work. "Glitched out little cassette creeper," he muttered. And oh, he ached. Everywhere.

He knew the instant he perceived Ratchet stiffen that it had _not_ been the correct response. Though whether that was because it wasn't Autobot-enough or just not like the frame he was wearing he was far less sure.

He sighed, lifted his head to look down at the blue and white _grounder_ frame, and tried to think of what this particular Autobot was usually like. 

Invisible and a pain in the aft, only one of which he knew how to do, and it likely wasn't going to be believable. "Sorry," he muttered--and was he _apologizing_ to an _Autobot_ about having insulted _Ravage?_ \--"I hurt everywhere. What did he do?"

"Used you for a scratching post," Ratchet huffed. "Most of it's cosmetic," a hand was suddenly on Starscream's chest to hold him down, only to relax and move away when he didn't try to get up. "Which has been repaired. The only major damage was a severed neural line. That'll keep you down for a couple days. Prowl'll be by to get your battle report in the morning."

"Of course," Starscream said, trying to sound like he meant it. _Battle report?_ They took _battle reports?_ "Down how, what will the repairs look like?" Slag, he didn't know how to format an Autobot battle report!

Ratchet gave him another hard look. "You legs won't be fully responsive until the repairs set. You look just fine."

"Just want to know when I can walk," Starscream said, and tried for a sardonic smile. "You know how much I hate being stuck here."

The medic huffed. "Not half as much as the rest of the psychos. Just recharge it out. You'll be back to wherever you disappear to before you know it."

"Just don't let the terror twins in," Starscream with a roll of his optics, hoping that a tease at what he'd heard were the pranksters of the Autobots would be in-character. The medic wasn't giving him instructions or follow-up or yelling at him about future appointments ... so either everything was done, which would impress the Pit out of the Seeker, or he expected Mirage to simply know what the healing schedule would be like. He hoped that his inability to access basic things like the damn spy's subspace locks would fade soon and he'd be able to at least see a memory of what a battle report looked like before that creepy Praxian came to collect it. "Do you have a datapad I can use while I'm here?"

Ratchet paused, then nodded and walked off. When he came back it was with a well-used datapad. "Not fancy like your Ops model," he warned.

"Yeah, well, turns out the 'Con isn't just an expert finish scratcher, but he's a pick-pocket too," Starscream muttered, accepting the pad and getting to work. "Jazz already knows," he added quickly at Ratchet's horrified look, cursing himself internally. "It'll self-destruct as soon as they try to hack it." At least that much he knew was true, out of personal experience. It was the ones that didn't explode you needed to worry about. Those held some of the most vicious viruses ever devised by Cybertronian kind.

"Long as Jazz knows," Ratchet nodded and turned away. "First Aid will check on you at shift change."

"Thank you, Ratchet," Starscream said as politely as he could manage, already through the basic locks and skimming through every database he could get the low-tech datapad to access. If he was very, very lucky, he'd have _some_ memory before then.

* * *

Starscream glanced up at the sound of pedesteps with a very strange rhythm and knew he was about to make or break his ability to get through this mission alive. There were plenty of visors among the Autobots, but only one that went with a black and white paintjob. The only good news was that Jazz was smiling.

"Hay'a, Raj. How'a feeling?" Jazz grinned at him, close but not touching when he came to a stop.

"Like an embarrassed scratching post," Starscream said with a dry smile. "Ravage got a good jump on me. But Ratchet tells me I'll be fine except for my pride."

"Good ta hear," Jazz relaxed slightly. "Didja learn anything 'fore he nailed ya?"

Now _that_ was an interesting question, Starscream mused. Not unexpected, but it was just full of possibilities for some revenge on Megatron for making him take this assignment. Anything too obvious would get him scrapped, though, so he had to stick to things that other Autobots might have noticed. "Megatron, Soundwave, and Starscream were all removed from the battle," he said. "Not too unusual for the buckethead and his lackey, but Screamer's usually airborne. They had a Shockwave looking contraption with them. That's all I saw."

Jazz twitched, his expression going dark. "Dammit. And you're going to be out of action for at least a decaorn." The smile and easy stance was back just as suddenly, though Starscream wasn't sure if that was normal or in response to the red mech that walked in. "Get as much as you can in a report," he took a new datapad from his subspace and handed it over. "And think about what you want to request for light duty. Prowler'll hear about that soon."

"Understood," Starscream said, nodding smoothly, and watched with fascination as the processors of the frame he was in responded to Jazz's features. It felt _so_ tantalizingly close, lines of data that he could see streaming by but couldn't _quite_ understand yet. The same was starting to happen for the medic, with scripted emotional responses that he could tell weren't his, although they _were_ familiar. He knew they weren't his because he certainly didn't feel anything other than disdain for these faces, while the frame he was in was feeling a sort of haughty distance. And _that_ feeling he knew very well.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad frame to end up in for this mission. Haughty distance he could do well, and it came easily.

Jazz gave a nod and left, leaving him with a second datapad. This one no doubt of the SpecOps variety. It also left Starscream alone and finally with the ability to log in to something more than the unsecured areas of Teletraan I.

Fingers flew over the screen, quickly assessing how much he could access from here without having the codes or arousing too much suspicion. The layout was starting to trigger more, and when he followed automatic action path sequences, he found himself arriving at the correct forms and passcodes. 

Well wasn't that _fascinating._

With the question of what Mirage would want to do lingering in the background, he began the slow process of fabricating a battle report. Just a few groons into it, the lights in the room suddenly dimmed. He twitched in surprise, looking up and half expecting to hear alarms, but a quick glance at Ratchet showed the medic hadn't even so much as looked up from his work. 

What the frag? 

Another glance around, and then one to the datapad where he noticed the time counter, and he almost groaned. _Oh._ The Ark was on _human_ time. He gave an internal, resigned sigh, and kept working.

* * *

First Aid had come and gone, checking on him a couple times while the lights were dim. Then Ratchet was back, checked on him and left him alone. Which meant Prowl would be there soon. He was done with his report, and while the optics kept catching on some of the glyphs as he scrolled through, he couldn't figure out entirely why. He hoped they were just vocabulary inconsistencies instead of true formatting errors, and something that Prowl would overlook. 

If not ... well, he'd have the satisfaction of calling it all Megatron's fault when he couldn't run away. 

When the Praxian walked in, doorwings held high and proud, Starscream had to physically fight the urge to throttle him--and _that_ , he knew, was his own reaction. Praxians were little better than race traitors and backstabbers, and this one in particular had undoubtedly used their common ancestry to help his Prime and the Autobots understand Seekers, so as to more effectively fight them. 

Instead, he nodded once. "Prowl." And--oh, here was a thing, the processors felt something like respect, but also caution, when Prowl's figure and designation were recognized.

"Mirage," Prowl's tone was bland, but in the formality of a full designation there was fondness that shouldn't have been there. Not between the Autobot SIC and a spy. Not between Praxian and non-Praxian. Even Starscream knew they were nearly as fixated on heritage as Seekers and nobles. Slag him, had he been switched into a frame in a fragging relationship? "Is your report finished?"

"Yes," Starscream said, and near-panic turned into relief when pathways connected with Prowl's designation and appearance finally got him to the part on how to submit it, and he did so immediately. "You should have it now," he said coolly. He looked back at the Praxian to watch the expression on his face from the tone. There was nothing there. Reading Prowl was about as easy as reading Soundwave, which was saying something given the Praxian had a fully visible face and doorwings.

Prowl gave a barely-visible twitch of his doorwings that indicated he had it in his files now. "Ratchet indicated you will be on light duty for at least a decaorn, likely two."

"Indeed." And Starscream didn't bother to hide the irritation at the reason for it. "I would prefer a solitary Ark patrol if possible."

Despite how well it was covered, Starscream just knew he saw disappointment flicker across Prowl's features. It was brief, gone almost as quickly as it had come, but that was definitely not the answer Prowl had hoped for.

"I will arrange what I can," Prowl promised, all professional again before he turned and walked away.

Starscream watched him go, shrugged to himself, and turned back to the datapad, following everywhere and anywhere Mirage's fingers would lead him.

* * *

Ratchet finally gave Starscream the okay to leave medbay, with some strict instructions: no transforming, no heavy action, limited running, _very_ limited use of his disruptor, and reporting back to medbay once per week for charge therapy through those wires to encourage the self-repair systems along. 

He left, with a better grasp of the spy's processors than he'd had when he'd first booted, but still fuzzy on the details. He was finding that trusting in the frame's automatic movement tended to get him to the relevant places, though, and this seemed to be just the same. He ended up at a door, like many doors, unlabeled, but far, far out of the way. He'd ignored everyone else on his way here, and the looks he'd received had been strange, but he was hoping that that was more about how stiff and ungraceful he knew this frame was given the damage it had sustained and being visible. He didn't _like_ being seen.

It was a strange sensation for the flashy Seeker, who had long thrived on being the center of attention.

Automatic frame responses opened the door, and Starscream paid close attention to the code so _he_ knew it too. A glance around gave the impression of a single-mech room. Clean, orderly and with a collection of luxuries that rivaled Megatron's in places. Some artwork on the wall, what he recognized as a grounder's view of the formerly spectacular Towers. Starscream knew them from the air, but this view felt comforting and he spent a few moments looking before moving on. 

Near the berth was a large, full mirror, with a stand containing fine, expensive polishes that the Seeker hadn't seen in _ages_. Not since early in the war. "Well," he murmured with a faint smirk, running his fingers over the perfectly organized jars. "It looks like we have something we agree upon, you and I." He looked into the mirror and felt _pride_ , even as his spark was revolted by the lack of wings.

The berth itself was soft, cushioned in a way that few without wings would have bothered with. Incredibly fine metal mesh with woven and burnished patterns in it were on the padding, blankets and pillows. The spy was soft, but Starscream couldn't fault him for his taste in what mattered. Fine polish, fine art and fine bedding.

And Primus granted him at least one reprieve in this nightmare: no roommates to deal with. Managing to say enough of the right things to superior officers was hard enough. At least there wasn't anyone who _lived_ with this grounder to be tipped off by minor things.

Optics swept the room and settled on an interior door. He went to explore that one and his spark jumped up in excitement. A small, basic washrack. Nothing like the full-service washracks of their homeworld and what they had once been considered standard, but it was _private_. 

Starscream didn't know if this was noble privilege, an officer thing, or something to do with his Special Operations standings, though he suspected the latter. Optimus Prime was big on equal treatment, though he guessed that there were probably some SpecOps cleanups that were better done in private.

Jazz may act like a floozy, but he got what he wanted when he deemed it important.

Now where had _that_ tidbit come from? Jazz, a floozy? Jazz was a terror on and off the battlefield, right up there with Soundwave as far as Starscream knew.

A floozy?

Starscream shook his helm sharply and refocused on the washrack. No matter why he had one, he did. It meant being able to wash while not having to endure the strange looks as he tried to look normal in this completely unfamiliar frame. Something very much worth being thankful for.

Also something very much worth using right now. He could feel how dirty the frame felt, even though he knew from his own readings of those same sensors that he wasn't. Apparently Mirage cleaned often. Lucky he seemed to have the resources to do it. Being beneath crushing tons of the planet's primary cleansing fluid, surprisingly, did little to help one remain clean due to the intensely corrosive effect that liquid had on their frames. 

Starscream stepped into the washrack, which automatically cycled on to a set chemical routine. It was cheap stuff, he could feel that much, and probably purchased from the locals, but it was doing the job of getting his armor clean. Starscream really relaxed for the first time since getting here. Just a few more decaorns of pretend, and then he could get out of this nightmare.

* * *

Starscream was grateful he had worked out Mirage's convoluted and triple secured comm system enough to read the message before Jazz sent him a ping to meet in Jazz's office not even four joors after his release from medbay. He was also grateful that he could access a map of the Ark, because the frame's self-guiding feature seemed to have blanked out when Starscream thought about going to that office.

Interesting, since Jazz was his direct commanding officer. Perhaps Mirage did not frequently go from his quarters to Jazz's office, or possibly he rarely went there at all. 

Memories--actual, concrete memories--were coming frustratingly slowly. 

"Jazz," he said to announce his presence when he walked through the door that opened automatically to him.

The visored black and white looked up and nodded, offering a datapad. "Your orders for light duty."

Starscream accepted it and scrolled through, so very grateful to Soundwave for once for his procurement of the particular dialect that this SpecOps unit used. Desk duty, in tactical. 

Desk duty, in tactical? 

"I requested solitary Ark patrol," he said mildly.

"I know. Prowl wants you closer and less exposed," Jazz grumbled. "Something about being restricted from transforming and using your disruptor making you too vulnerable to be sent outside. He's in one of his _moods_ , 'Raj. I can get him to back off."

"That's all right," Starscream said, reading the orders again. Having access to the tactical systems would be Megatron's dream come true. Bringing back _that_ kind of information would keep him safe for quite a while. And he could still walk around the Ark the rest of the time, no one was going to find an Autobot walking these halls suspicious, and with medical orders not to use the disruptor, his being visible wouldn't even be that strange. "I don't mind working with Prowl. He hardly ever talks."

"All right," Jazz nodded. "Come to me if the looking gets to be a bit much."

"I can handle some looking, Jazz," Starscream said, imagining his shining wings and how much he _never_ minded some looking. And damn it, he was just too curious now. "You're acting as though I _mind_ being visually appreciated."

The SpecOps commander cocked his helm, then leaned forward. "Need to update your file?" he hummed, as curious as teasing.

"Absolutely not," Starscream said haughtily, lifting his chin just a touch. Obviously that had been far enough out of character for Jazz to notice and now he needed to get back in. "I've merely come to acknowledge that with a frame like mine, mecha are bound to stare. I may as well accept it as the indication of a well-kept frame that it is."

Jazz chuckled and relaxed back in his chair. "Good. You've been invisible far too long. My SIC really should not be so rarely seen. Now scoot. You don't need to report in until morning."

Starscream gave Jazz a patiently exasperated look that came all too easily. "Really?" he sighed with exaggerated disbelief. "'Scoot?'"

"Scoot, scram, get going, skedaddle, begone, vamoose," Jazz grinned unrepentantly. "Enjoy your day off."

"You are _utterly_ impossible," Starscream said, rolling his optics as he left. He heard Jazz's laugh and marked it as one of good humor with some relief. Now he had three joors to see how many memories he could dig up of Prowl.

* * *

As it turned out, from what Starscream could tell of Mirage's memories, Jazz's comment about the staring was actually incredibly accurate. Mirage never said anything about it, but he frequently noticed Prowl looking at him. And also from what Starscream could tell, Prowl had never been anything less than professional, but he had a better idea of where all the caution was coming from. He was a higher-ranking officer, and at least among Decepticons, that could be used to some amount of abuse. 

He didn't think that kind of thing happened on this ship, at least not while their goody goody Prime was watching. Behind Prime's back ... he was sure it was anyone's guess. 

"Good morning," he said to announce his presence in the tactical station. And _oh_ the amount of intel that being in this room prompted in Mirage's processors.

"Good morning," Prowl nodded to him and motioned to him one of the tactical tables. "Since you cannot go on the mission, it seemed prudent to take advantage of your status to plan it."

Starscream hesitated for a few nanokliks. Mission. _What_ mission. He was obviously supposed to know which one. "Which is why I am here and not on solitary patrol," he sniffed to buy time. "Apologies, sir, but to which mission are you referring?" he asked in his best impression of the obnoxiously lofty spy, and hoped like Pit that there was more than one mission currently being planned.

From the surprise that rippled faintly across Prowl's doorwings, he was fairly sure there wasn't.

"To retrieve, or destroy, the device you saw during the battle," Prowl explained anyway. "Jazz is planning to go."

"Ah," Starscream said, tipping his helm forward just enough to be considered a nod. "He had not mentioned it," he explained. "I thought I would be going once I was fully recovered." Slag. Slagslagslagslagslag. They _couldn't_ destroy that thing. Not until Starscream was back in his frame, at least. Then they could drop it in a pit of acid for all he cared. 

Starscream slid into the chair opposite Prowl, looking down at the screens and logging in easily. Prowl watched his fingers moving and the Seeker couldn't help the ghost of a smirk at the faint feeling of Prowl's field against his. Yes, there was desire there. No doubt about it. He knew it from admirers both subtle and not. "Has he indicated a preference for entry?"

"Likely the southeastern bay. I believe that is the next one on the list," Prowl shrugged one doorwing. "Unless he's changed the rotation without telling me again."

"You know him," Starscream said, shrugging one arm. "Everything's routine until it isn't." He flicked his optics up, just for a moment, to see how Prowl would react and teeked the chuckle more than saw it.

"True. Jazz is a law unto himself," Prowl shifted fractionally closer, into the radiant warmth of Starscream's frame. "Perhaps with your assistance he will actually follow the mission plan."

"One _can_ hope," Starscream said as he accepted the datapack that Prowl sent his way, opening up the outline of what the tactician had already come up with. Simple, basic, and relied on adaptive decrypting. And a _lot_ of ventilation shafts. 

And they had a _list_ of entrances? He was going to have to find that for sure. "You have finished a good portion of the work already," he commented.

"Regrettably with a limited number of entrances and exists and a small space, getting in, out and to the common locations does not offer that much variance," Prowl said, and there was no question that it irritated him greatly. "We can only be grateful that the Decepticons have never made securing their facilities a high priority. I hoped you would have ideas for the plan that Jazz might find appealing."

Make it interesting enough to tempt the saboteur into base? Starscream was sure he could think of a way to do that. "Why not just remind him that he has yet to interface with Soundwave and a good portion of the Decepticon army besides," he said with a chuckle, not looking up from the datapad he was working on. He felt the flare of shock, then embarrassment radiate from the mech next to him as Prowl's vents briefly stalled.

"I ... was that a joke?" Prowl's voice was slightly strangled.

Oh for the love of--

"Yes," Starscream said flatly, and restrained himself from rolling his optics. Uptight Autobots. "Yes, it was a joke. Ventilate."

Prowl complied with a gulp of air, then settled himself. "If you have any _serious_ suggestions, we can incorporate them. Otherwise I will give Jazz the plan and he will do what he usually does."

And since as far as Starscream knew, Jazz had not been in their base in quite some time, whatever Jazz usually did was obviously effective. 

"Before he grabs the device, he should try accessing the communications logs," Starscream said. "We don't know what it is and there might be some clue in there as to what. It is unusual for them to have such a device in plain sight as they did without us seeing some effect from it, whether it is Megatron's face getting singed by a backfire or something detrimental to us. It might be something hazardous that they want us to willingly bring to the Ark." 

"Agreed," Prowl murmured with a distinct flicker of approval across his field. "Wheeljack's testing bunker should be sufficient until we know what it is."

"I would perhaps suggest a trip solely to find out, first," Starscream said, knowing--hoping--that that information would be well protected, at least enough to buy him the time to not get totally slagged while he was over here. "And then one to grab. That also increases the chance that I will be able to go, and I'm less likely to get caught in a storage bunker than Jazz, no matter how stealthy he is." 

Protectiveness flared in Prowl's field before he caught and buried it. "Every mission contains an unacceptable risk of capture. Two strikes will never be preferable to one."

"Prowl," Starscream said firmly. "There are times when excess caution is desirable. I believe this is one of those times. Megatron's actions were simply uncharacteristic. And, making tactical decisions based on personal emotions is unlike you."

That dumped a ton of ice on the Praxian, but the exact reason for the reaction, the emotions the barb generated, remained hidden. "It was not emotional reasons," he replied stiffly. "Every mission _is_ dangerous. Just because it is your function now does not make it any less so."

Yet after ages of listening to Megatron and others saving face, Starscream was fairly sure that was what he was hearing. A public denial, that if Prowl was as good as he was supposed to be, would lead to a private revision of the mission parameters. Just not in front of him, he was sure. The Praxian had his pride.

Instead of commenting on it, he simply raised an optic ridge, looked the Praxian up and down in a practiced, judging visual examination, then shrugged and looked back to the datapad, superficially disinterested in anything having to do with Prowl's emotions. "My official recommendation is two missions, one for intel and one to retrieve," he said. "You asked for my input, and I gave it. What you do with it is up to you."

He felt more than heard Prowl nod and move away, leaving him at the tactical station alone.

Oh well. If the Praxian was _that_ sensitive Starscream would rather work alone anyway. And figure out how to _not_ let the Autobots destroy Shockwave's latest toy. He'd be damned before he was stuck in a grounder frame the rest of his life. Which wouldn't last very long. 

Although, it was strange, he hadn't seen the sky since he'd been here and he felt ... fine. Not good, of course, but not awful. He hadn't been here long, it was true, but he felt better than he usually did in his own frame being indoors. He _spark_ felt it, but the twitching in his processors wasn't there. It was ... interesting. 

Speaking of interesting, these tactical reports were definitely that. Prowl's planning extended _far_ beyond just this mission or the next. He had endgames for more than a dozen different scenarios that likely would need centuries to come about. And they were perfect. Brilliant. 

Well no fragging _wonder_ the Autobots had lasted this long. Given a proper army and no Primus-addled Prime, Prowl could have crushed the Decepticons at any point he wanted. Put in charge of the Decepticons, the mech could probably conquer the universe if he wanted.

He did a little more digging, using the frame's integrated responses and his own intellect ... which was not nearly what he remembered it being ... and began to access tactical plans that were not public access. Some of those were scary. Anything that included Optimus Prime's deactivation without the bulk of the Autobots going down with him led to massive covert slaughter of the Decepticon officers.

Starscream knew enough of how to read between the lines to know that meant that it was the Prime, and only the Prime, that had held back that action for who knew how long.

He gave a frustrated x-vent. The Decepticons should have won _centuries_ ago. They should have won long before Megatron had had the chance to become as insane as he was now. They had the better numbers, better military, better finances, _everything_ ... and the Autobots had survived what should have been a slaughter with just a few key players, and the title of the Prime attracting the mindless multitudes hoping for some kind of equality or salvation. 

There _was_ no equality or salvation, Starscream knew that. The strongest would always step on the weaker. The cunning would subvert the clueless. Optimus Prime's utopia simply would never exist. 

But they were still going to fight like Pit for it, and with a processor like this behind it all, they even stood a chance at winning. 

Prowl needed to become a key target. He was far more dangerous in the long run than Prime could ever be.

Prowl's approach had Starscream quickly backing out of the more restricted files and over to the Ops-centric ones where he'd been when Prowl left.

"Anything else to suggest?" Prowl asked with a subtle nod towards the plans.

"Nothing else," Starscream said with a shrug. "I'm surprised you're asking me for further advice. Was that the only reason you wanted me here instead of on patrol? To make a suggestion on a mission protocol I am highly familiar with so you could ignore it?"

He wasn't oblivious to the covert attention the conversation had from the other two in the room. Smokescreen and ... who _was_ the big black one with the visor and mask? Whatever. They were both watching carefully.

"You know better than that," Prowl said quietly, his field flitting against Starscream's with some of the arousal back. "You usually get Jazz to argue me out of keeping you close when you're injured."

Oh.

Oh slag.

Whether the assignment was flirting or not, there was no doubt that Starscream had just unknowingly accepted an advance from the Praxian and Prowl expected him to know that.

Slag.

Was this Autobot culture or just Prowl being the freaky Praxian tactician he was?

He pushed down the shudder of revulsion and tried to look at the upside. He had a ripe emotional field here to reap if he could break the Praxian's spark. 

Even if it meant pretending to _enjoy_ a flightless, winged frame. At least grounders didn't pretend to be something they weren't. Praxians were filthy liars who clung to their noble Seeker heritage like a symbiot to its host, without ever admitting how far they'd fallen. 

...He was getting off track. He had to deal with this situation of his own making, and quickly. "I can't use my disruptor," he said loftily. "At least here I only have _one_ mech staring at me."

"Then come. There are fewer to stare at you elsewhere," Prowl made a small motion and turned to leave again.

Starscream narrowed his optics suspiciously, but stood. "And where, exactly, are we going?" he asked in a low voice, trying to imitate the tone he used when he was attempting to cool Megatron down by distracting him with subtle flirting, while at the same time not giving in to whatever they were fighting about.

"My office. You can review reports and read there as easily as anywhere," Prowl flicked a doorwing in a shrug.

And the damn professional Praxian probably meant it, too. There were no subtle flirtatious subharmonics in his voice, nothing different in his field. Starscream followed silently, and noted the looks they got from _everyone_ they passed by on their way there. 

Well, if Prowl thought he'd accepted an advance, he might as well work with it. "Perhaps I wanted to see what happened if I didn't get Jazz to argue you out of changing my assignment," he said mildly.

"Administrative duties, just as the order says," Prowl actually sounded mildly offended, but mostly surprised. "Unless you care to stay after your shift."

It wasn't quite a question, not really an invitation, but both were there.

"Don't push your luck," Starscream said coldly. "Consider for a moment that I may have meant I was curious about the administrative duties. It happened to mean deigning to let you spend time with me."

Hot and cold. Just like with Megatron. Only hopefully with a different outcome. At least he was reasonably certain that Prowl would not send him to medbay needing additional repairs. Full frontal assaults were not the tactician's style.

Prowl took it better than Megatron ever would, but there was a flicker of confusion too and Starscream _knew_ what the look of being the complete focus of a sharp processor was. He now had Prowl's undivided attention. Or at least as undivided as the mech was capable of.

The door to the SIC's office opened at Prowl's code and Starscream took careful note of it. It would be good to know how often it was changed. If Prowl was a creature of habit, it might be easier to break in with a metacycle's worth of codes. If he was as smart as he seemed, it would be useless.

Either way, when Starscream walked into the office he wasn't sure what to make of it. One desk, three chairs, a filing cabinet, and that was it. It could be the office of the lowest admin for all the power on display here, and from the way Mirage's processors were responding, he knew this frame had never stepped into this room before. Well that was odd.

Optics focused in and out, categorizing, matching, organizing the layout until Starscream was looking at it through a set of protocols that made everything appear completely different. Not visually, but movement wise, safety wise. The systems in use were not unlike his flight systems, or even a very, very simplified version of Skywarp's teleporting technology. Spatial relations were the primary focus, along with exit routes. 

He sat down in one of the offered chairs and pulled his datapad back out, flipping to the first report he'd been assigned. Prowl sat down across from him, at the desk, and went to work on his own datapads and the terminal there.

Quiet. Focused. Comfortable. Relaxed.

Prowl was at home in this space, doing this work, and he was focused on working. Even the almost perfectly timed 1.3 klik glances at Starscream didn't seem to do much to the speed at which datapads moved through his hands.

The mech was infuriatingly routine, Starscream decided. After a while, he made a point of having his optics already focused up to meet Prowl's every third glance, just to let Prowl know that he knew he was being regularly checked out. Those times, he got a tiny flutter of doorwings. Not quite flirting, but a definite indicator of liking having Mirage look at him.

The Praxian was carrying a very, very old flame, Starscream was certain of that. That would make it oh so deliciously easy to woo him in the little time he had in this frame. Imagine the rewards if he could _break_ the Prime's Second in Command, the mech who was the Autobot's tactical unit almost entirely unto himself. 

And at the same time, have reasonable access to the Ark's secrets? 

It was a win-win. Starscream turned the urge to smirk into a soft smile at the glance that came when his shift was up. The flutter was a bit stronger to that, nearly a quiver, but Prowl kept his voice completely calm.

"Your shift is up. I will see you in the morning," Prowl told him.

"Very well," Starscream said, standing, inclining his helm in a smooth, practiced motion, and left Prowl sitting there to make whatever he could of the encounter.

* * *

It had taken three days of off shifts to fully explore the unsecured portions of the Ark and Starscream had to admit, to himself, that he was impressed. The Autobots had reclaimed the majority of their ship and expanded it well into, under and around the mountain. His access to the map told him that much. It hadn't prepared him for the good condition it was all in. The Decepticons had the numbers and the Constructicons, but the Autobots had excavated, rebuilt and kept their base _clean_ despite the organic infestations and dirt that grounders in a dusty environment would bring in. He'd come across more cleaning details in a shift than the Nemesis saw in a decaorn.

It was unsettling. They were organized, well-fueled, well-repaired, in good spirits and with the exception of one minibot there didn't seem to be much by way of dissention in the ranks. From the way others reacted to the minibot, it was one who complained just to complain.

Just how in the Pit had he ended up on the losing side of all this? 

It was a rhetorical question, even in the safety of his own mind, though one that _had_ answers, many of them. Vos, Praxus, the Prime's initial allegiance with the city that had given birth to their planet's downfall. The Prime's insistence on worshiping Primus. Megatron himself had even been the far more attractive and charismatic of the two. By rights, the conditions of their armies should have been reversed. 

Starscream huffed out an irritated sigh as he returned to Mirage's quarters. He had a decent grasp on the spy's processors by now, but there were still some sections of his life eluding him. Mirage's personal life, being the most noteworthy. If he wanted to forge ahead with this thing with Prowl, he really should have some kind of memory of that, just so there were no revealing questions that he didn't know the answer to. 

And so, both curious and disgusted by the thought of it, Starscream locked the door to his quarters and headed to the berth to explore whatever the grounder had to work with. A quick search produced nothing by way of toys or even the odds and ends most kept around to clean up afterwards. So Mirage either didn't interface, even for self-servicing, or he preferred methods that didn't leave a mess.

He truly hoped it was the latter. That would make life much simpler. 

With a resigned sigh he settled down on the berth, stretched out on his back, looking at the awful orange ceiling. Mood-killer. He couldn't be in a grounder frame _and_ stare at that thing, so he flicked his vision off and tried to disconnect from the frame as much as was possible as his hands wandered down. It felt strange not to be pressing on his wing joints in this position, and even stranger not to feel the very faint arousal down in his thrusters, but rather in the wheels. 

He shuddered. _Wheels_.

Stop thinking about that. Learn the frame. Get it off. Get used to what it felt like to overload like this. Because it would not due to be startled by it with Prowl around.

Oh, the things he did for praise.

The nosecone was sensitive, full of proximity and environmental sensors, much like his own. It felt nice to caress, and he remembered different hands on this frame, from long ago, drawing out the same quiet moan that he'd just made. His armor was high quality, sensitive, with protocols that flawlessly dictated what a touch should be reading as given contextual input. 

One hand dipped that much lower, the thumb continuing to nudge up against the nosecone as the fingers reached, and this motion felt new. The spy didn't self-service? No wonder he was so uptight. Well, it was time to get the frame used to it.

He rubbed his fingers over the spike cover until it unlocked and slid open, all the while watching the commands so he could find them if he needed to later. There was no telling if he could really maintain a needed level of arousal while being _nice_ to the Praxian. He worked his fingers around the housing, moaning again at the zaps of sharper pleasure. His spark found them familiar and easy. His current frame wasn't nearly as familiar with it. It wasn't unknown, there was no seal, it just wasn't familiar in the way Starscream felt towards his own equipment.

He coaxed the length out, getting to know its soft ridges and the small, fluorescent sensor nodes that ran up along the bottom--he had a memory of the visual as it would appear to a lover--and the engines kicked into an easy purr. There was no trauma here, no good reason why the systems should feel as unfamiliar as they did. Mirage had taken lovers, a long time ago, before the Towers fell. Other nobles, always. 

Was that it? Starscream wondered as one hand continued to stroke the spike up and down while the other slipped lower to rub the valve cover. There were no nobles around to frag? 

The _no-bad_ that flared in the frame at the pleasant touch to the valve cover didn't have to do with trauma, either, but of intense, arrogant pride.

Too _proud_ to let anyone in his valve? That was an ancient, outdated attitude that Starscream thought Optimus Prime of all mecha would have wiped out of his troops by now, but apparently some habits died harder than others. 

He could teach this frame how to enjoy its valve. Starscream smirked to himself and kept rubbing, forcing the physical charge to build up along over the plating, drawing from the friction of his other hand on his spike at the same time. With no trauma and no damage to create pain-feedback that wasn't there, his knowing fingers didn't take long to coax the valve cover open.

It gave Starscream the reward of stroking down, and realized that it wasn't all going to be fun. A seal of hard rubber still covered the valve opening.

No one had _ever_ touched Mirage that way.

Despite the amazed disgust at the revelation, it was becoming harder to focus through the pleasure from his spike and the reflexive rocking of the frame into that pleasure.

He abandoned the valve, just the tiniest bit put-out that he wouldn't get to experience the dual-overload he'd been hoping for, and brought the freed-up hand up to his nosecone and started rubbing at that tip again as his wrist twisted around the spike. High, _high_ quality metals, sensitive to the slightest change in pressure, heat, and friction, were such a treat to experience. If he was going to be stuck in a grounder, _this_ was the way to do it. 

His hand pumped up and down and his helm tilted back, mouth falling open. Even with the cooling vents now running at full power, their fans were so quiet he could hear the smallest sounds of metal on metal. The crackle of the charge dancing over his frame began to take over the sound of his hand's movement, the moans of pleasure soon became gasping keens as his insides turned to molten pleasure of a charge far higher than he could normally manage. Another perk for the quality of construction.

When his fingers finally clenched around his crackling spike everything went white with a keen he barely heard.

Fluid rushed up and out, _burning_ through the barely used structure, hot on his hand where it spilled out. His frame wasn't used to overloading and it was a _rush_ to feel it so new again, like nothing else could compare, and his last coherent thought before slipping into a soft reboot was that the noble was definitely missing out.

The hazy bliss of post-overload was disturbed by a distant awareness that he was not alone. As he powered up his optics, he could hear the purr of the other's engine.

"Good ta see you finally enjoying yourself," Jazz's easy trill drew Starscream's attention to a spot by the door. "Came by ta ask how Prowler's been behaving."

" _Primus!_ " He bolted upright, startled and reacting half on a spark instinct to _fly_ from that face, before he managed to settle enough into the frame to stay where he was. He _did_ glare. "Don't you _ping?_ "

"You didn't respond," Jazz said with a jovial grin. "Don't tell me you're frame-shy. It's not like I haven't touched, tweaked and broken every part of you already."

"Well," Starscream said, forcing himself to remember that Mirage _liked_ Jazz, respected him, even, and that the commander was the closest thing that he'd been able to find as a friend in all of the memories. Even if he was a floozy. He smiled smugly. "Not _every_ part." 

"I can change that," the black and white purred. It looked _really_ predatory to Starscream, but the frame didn't seem afraid.

"You can just resign yourself to looking," Starscream said, relaxing back down onto the berth with a faint smirk, fingers brushing along the insides of his thighs. "You and everyone else."

"Looking, and perhaps riding again," Jazz trilled with a heavy harmonic of teasing woven in. He walked to a better spot to take in the mech relaxed on the berth and made no secret he was taking it all in. "How is Prowl behaving?"

"Mm, as he normally does," Starscream said, propping his head up in one hand and looking up at Jazz. "I can time the glances to the nanoklik."

"Just wait, he'll start to shift the pattern," Jazz chuckled, but turned serious. "You intend to frag him?"

"I don't know," Starscream said. It was easy to slip into the spy's processors here, in the safety of his quarters and his commander's presence. He hummed quietly, thoughtfully. "I never thought about him like that before, but then I didn't mind it when he changed my service request around for once." He flicked his optics up with a bit of a smile at Jazz. "He _is_ wonderfully docile in the right mood."

"Prowl ... docile?" Jazz raised an optic ridge. "That's a new one."

"Maybe it's just me," Starscream chuckled. "He flusters a little when I'm firm with him. He doesn't do that with you?"

Jazz laughed. "Pit no. Mech gets all flared up and fluffed out when _anybody_ challenges him. He's argued down Prime often enough. But I suppose that's a benefit with him wanting you. You get away with it."

Starscream smiled up at his--Mirage's--commander, absolutely fascinated by how easy it felt to relax here with the mech suspected of being responsible for countless small disasters aboard the Nemesis, and quite a few larger ones elsewhere. "There aren't any more nobles," he said. "Unless you want to count Blast Off, which ... no." He shuddered, and didn't even need to rely on Mirage for that. "This would be ... easy. I could make it simple."

"It'd do you both some good to have a regular overload," Jazz nodded. "Be up front with what you want. Prowl likes to know the ground rules."

"Absolutely," Starscream said. "If we were any kind of civilized society there would be an office to submit a contract to. A private one may have to suffice." He regarded Jazz for a moment before switching topics rapidly. "Tell the truth, did you come in here because I didn't answer my ping or because you knew why I didn't answer my ping and wanted to watch?"

"Because you didn't answer your ping," Jazz answered evenly. "This was a surprise," he motioned to Mirage's frame, still fully exposed and with transfluid cooling on it. "A very nice surprise, I'll admit. You're hot when you feel that good."

Starscream hummed. There _were_ some very hot memories of Jazz riding him these processors. Not many, and they had all been related to training or work somehow, even if it was just needing to work out off an excess fuel charge to make them less detectable by Soundwave's intense scanning systems-- _there_ was an interesting little tidbit to take back--but Mirage had enjoyed those times all the same. "It has been quite a while," he said.

"I know," Jazz purred, his engine revving, but he didn't take the step forward that any Decepticon would have. "That an invitation?"

"You look like you want it to be," Starscream said with a chuckle, sliding one leg up and patting his thigh next to his half-pressurized spike. "Go ahead, then, hop on." 

Frag, _frag_ , was he really doing this? There were so many ways he could see this coming back to clip his wings. He just _knew_ that any Autobot would not take interfacing with a frame that wasn't under its real spark's control badly, and then not to mention that it was _him_ of all of the Decepticons doing the controlling. Starscream was under no illusions that he was anything other than detested by these mecha.

"Let's see how many overloads we can manage before your shift starts," Jazz purred as he climbed onto the berth and straddled Starscream. His valve cover slid open smoothly, the warmth and slickness already detectable by Starscream's spike as he leaned forward to claim a kiss.

"Damn, mech," Starscream half gasped against his mouth, stunned by just how _ready_ his frame felt. _Floozy_ , indeed. His spike was already mostly hard again, the head nudging up against the valve's rim. "Call it strategic internal personal communications, all right?"

"Anything ya want, Raj, baby," Jazz purred and slowly lowered his hips to take that exquisitely crafted spike inside him. "Anything ya want," he moaned and rippled his valve calipers around the thickness invading him so pleasantly.

Starscream moaned at the feeling of an incredibly experienced valve around this spike. And not only experienced, but concerned enough with the pleasure of his partner to ripple and flex in ways that were specifically designed to pleasure the spike. Mirage's hips thrust up in a familiar motion, arms wrapping around Jazz's waist. The Porsche relaxed into it, easily taking a submissive role that Starscream got from Mirage's memories.

Black hands that had taken so many Decepticon lives slowly reached up to caress, then more firmly stroke the helm vents that surrounded Starscream's face now. It sent mild shivers of pleasure into him as the kissing continued. In all of it, Jazz never stopped rippling, squeezing and cycling his valve's components to draw the most pleasure out of his lover.

"Love how your spike feels," Jazz moaned between kisses.

"You're such a hedonist," Starscream said with a gasping laugh, trying to sound as snobby about it as he could as his frame worked and rolled up into the eager, inviting warmth above it. His hands slid up Jazz's sides and back strut, caressing. Mirage _liked_ this mech, at least enough to be affectionate. Even if Starscream could tell the owner of the frame would have never done _this_. 

It felt fragging _good_ to be with a partner who cared about his pleasure, and he tried to reciprocate it as best as he could. 

"Gotta take pleasure when ya can," Jazz moaned, shameless of his desires. "Makes the rest worth surviving."

"I might start agreeing with you on that point if you keep doing _that_ ," Starscream groaned in answer at the next exhilarating ripple-twist-buck that Jazz's frame pulled off around him. It proved to be too much for the inexperienced frame and Starscream overloaded with a sharp cry and thrust upwards, seizing in processor-whitening ecstasy.

He came to with the crackle of Jazz's overload tingling along his spike and the scream-inducing pleasure of it mixed with the precise movements of before.

"What, _more?_ " he grinned, gripping Jazz's waist and rolling up again. "You're insatiable."

"I _did_ say how many we could manage before shift stated," the SpecOps commander grinned back as he executed the move again. "I have a rep to maintain."

"Definitely don't want to ruin your rep," Starscream said, definitely looking forward to it. "Can't think of anyone better to break me in."

Jazz's grin only widened as he settled in for a very pleasurable joor and a half with his latest fling.


	2. Contract for Pleasure

Starscream regarded Prowl steadily between his glances, knowing full well that the Praxian was aware of his unwavering gaze. Oh, Praxians might downplay their doorwings' sensor capabilities to others so that no one would know about that advantage--or exploit it for abuse--but Starscream knew _all_ about the technology in them that allowed a mech, without moving, to take in a detailed picture of his surroundings. Crack a Praxian's optics, and they'll still be able to see you. They can't tell you what color your armor is, but they can still shoot you through the single vulnerability in your armor and shatter your spark. 

Take their _wings_ , though, and they're crippled. 

... _Not_ that that was what Starscream was thinking about right at that precise moment, but he'd gone through the scenario enough in his own mind before. It applied to him now just as much as it ever had, if not more.

"Your shift is over," Prowl said as he looked up for the final time. "I will see you tomorrow."

Starscream tucked his work away and stood, cocking his head. If the mech had quarters, this would be the perfect time to suggest they meet there later. Unfortunately, as far as he could tell, Prowl _didn't_ have quarters. He had quarters assigned to him, but the hall that should have led to them ended in a rock wall, and in three full orns of observation, Prowl had never once retreated to anywhere but his office. "What if I don't want to wait until tomorrow?" he asked. 

"You wish to do more work?" an optic ridge raised as pale blue optics focused on him a little more.

"Prowl," Starscream said with a quiet laugh. "No, I don't want to do more work. I ... kind of wanted to see if I could distract you from yours. Just a bit." 

That managed to get a more interesting reaction as Prowl set the datapad down. "To what end?" her asked plainly.

Starscream pretended to think about that for a few moments, then, "I like your doorwings," he said suddenly. "I was created for my family to make ties with some Praxian nobles, so I've always liked doorwings. I admire hard work, I need someone who understands what it means to put the job first, no matter what it is. And there's no one left for me, and Cybertron is probably lost. I don't relish the idea of spending the rest of my life alone, and neither, I think, do you. No matter how much you hide that behind your work." 

The intense control Prowl was exerting on his doorwings didn't hide much from the Seeker. The mech was in shock, exhilarated and processing rapidly. Starscream could actually _see_ the moment all those calculations came to a conclusion.

"True. I had long since given up on anything beyond my work," Prowl said carefully, desire and lifelong caution still squabbling over details of his response. "Have you written a contract for it yet?"

"I deemed it ... prudent to discuss the idea with you first," Starscream said. "And I did not want you to find me too forward, considering your commoner background. I know that many would find the idea insulting, and I didn't want to take that risk."

Prowl twitched, somewhere between amused, embarrassed, proud and shamed. It was an odd look on him. It would be an odd look on _anyone_ and it piqued Starscream's curiosity as to why Prowl would react that way.

"Thank you," Prowl inclined his helm. "I assure you I do not find contracts insulting. It is familiar to my caste." He hesitated, then dropped his gaze. "I must admit, I am surprised you did not know. I knew my creators went to some effort to ensure I had been scrubbed from the records, but it was a major scandal when it happened. I did not believe there was a noble who did not know."

"'Know?'" Starscream repeated, cocking his head curiously at the Praxian as he rapidly scanned everything that Mirage had on Prowl in his memories, praying that he hadn't just severely increased his odds of getting found out. Nothing significant popped up. "You were an Enforcer," he said. "In Praxus. There is no status associated with that." Yellow optics brightened. "You were created for a caste." 

"Polyhexian Nobility," Prowl said quietly, including all the subtle harmonics that marked his former status as halfway up that particular class and caste's hierarchy by heritage. Not a royal or mech of likely political importance, but still one that was well above the average wealth, even for well-off mecha. "They wiped me from the caste. They could not completely wipe what I was created to be."

Starscream took a careful, settling x-vent as the processor took that information and ran it through over and over, surges of emotion coming and going as they battled with the spark controlling them. Disgust, curiosity, relief, fellowship, understanding, pity, elation... It went on and on. 

It would be like meeting a grounder who admitted to having his wings stripped, no matter for what reason, and not fighting to get them back. 

"I was willing to see where this might go when I believed you a commoner," he said quietly, with intense focus on Prowl's optics. The rank that had been trilled out in the designation had been lower than Mirage's. He stepped forward and wished for his wings so he could flare them out in the dominant display he was feeling. Instead, he kept their optics locked together, standing tall and proud, and lifted a single hand to brush his knuckles along Prowl's jaw. "I will write up a contract for you to review, then," he said, whispering his own rank in the subharmonics and felt Prowl shiver. 

"Negotiations will begin when it is presented," Prowl replied, harmonics and frame language already taking a submissive stance, but now it was one with a very different meaning to both processors involved, even if only one spark.

It was kind of a thrill, Starscream had to admit. In so many different ways. "Then I will see you tomorrow when I report for my shift," he said, speaking to his commanding officer for a single sentence before switching back. "And afterwards, you will report to me to review our contract."

"Agreed," Prowl actually _purred_ , or at least his engine did, and his doorwings fluttered slightly in anticipation. "I look forward to both."

Starscream inclined his helm briefly. "As do I."

* * *

Starscream was proud of the contract he'd written. It was the first of its kind he'd ever put together, but being able to actually _use_ the extensive education he'd received, with the aid of Mirage's knowledge on the subject, had been enjoyable. And the fact that they were living in a time and place completely different than what these contracts had been designed for had given him some amount of personal freedom in its design. 

It stated outright that signing the contract did not indicate any commitment, but simply an acknowledgement that they would be significant to each other. How significant was left up to them to determine, and the language was flexible enough to allow for further additions and changes. 

Neither owed the other anything material and they could break the contract at any time with no consequences. 

It also stated that if their relationship was perceived to interfere with their work, it would be ended immediately. Starscream thought that Prowl would enjoy that touch. The Praxian--no, not a Praxian, but really a Polyhexian--was all for his work, obnoxiously so. 

When Prowl announced that his tactical shift was over, Starscream nodded, packed his work away, and stood. "Lacking creators or a Lord, you must review this yourself," he said, handing the contract over.

Prowl nodded slightly, his frame language shifting to something more submissive, though not completely so. From the way Mirage's processors preened at the move, Starscream gauged it to mean that Prowl was volunteering to be the subordinate one in their relationship.

"Who regularly shares your berth?" Prowl asked after a couple kliks of reviewing what Starscream had put together.

"Jazz has been my only lover since the Towers fell," Starscream said. "And excepting one time, only for work."

"Objections to an exclusivity clause with a work exemption?" Prowl asked, and the twitch of his doorwings warned that this was important to him.

Mmh, that would be just ever so slightly unfortunate, Starscream mused to himself, with a private shiver for how fantastic the SpecOps commander was in berth. But agreeing would only serve to get Prowl that much more emotionally invested. "None whatsoever," he said with a soft, pleased purr and watched as the edit was made.

Then Prowl signed it and handed the pad to Starscream. It gave the Seeker his first real look at how Prowl described himself in a legal context. Nowhere in it was the noble heritage he had claimed, but at least the processors thought that was correct. Prowl had no _right_ to claim the heritage anymore. It did give his final rank in the Enforcers, and Starscream had to hide the surprise that he'd been a City Sub-Commissioner. His rank in the Autobots, and that he was one, was clear too, but Starscream knew that much.

There was one sub-glyph set that had Mirage's processors spinning. It took a moment for Starscream to get the translation out, but then he was just as stunned.

Teris-Spi: Master  
Cy-Kisn: Master  
Diffusion: Pre-Master

The stuck-at-his-desk tactician has all but mastered _three_ martial arts. The Seeker couldn't even begin to grasp how that was possible. It shouldn't be possible. He wished he'd known that before deciding that _this_ was the weak link to mess with.

Starscream watched as the processors continued to decipher the complex glyph and became more and more surprised even as some things began to make sense. It told of three designations, three _lives_ , left behind. Those designations meant nothing to Mirage, and no more to Starscream, other than it was all but unheard of to get a new designation once. To have had three officially given was ... it simply did not happen.

There was a story there. A big one that might be well worth the effort to get out of him. 

He lifted his optics briefly to Prowl, who was waiting in respectful silence, his doorwings canted appropriately to indicate that he was calm with allowing the other to take all the time he needed. Starscream looked back to skim the additional clause, found it agreeable, and signed. 

Mirage's formal designation glyph brought no real surprises for the Seeker. It indicated his heritage and the rank he'd held within his family, his function as a spy, the single discipline he had mastered. "Quite a history," he murmured, tucking the completed contract away and looking up at Prowl with a smile. 

"Too much of one, at times," Prowl admitted quietly, his doorwings fluttering at having the contract signed. "Full frame rebuilds are not pleasant."

"They are not," Starscream agreed, stepping around Prowl's desk and pushing his chair back, touching his fingers under Prowl's chin, tipping his face up. "Have you had any serious lovers in your past?"

The hot flare of arousal rushed through Prowl's field at the touch and his doorwings fluttered a bit more. "Not in a very long time. The last was when I was a junior detective."

Starscream hummed, optics going over Prowl's features in an obvious evaluation. "Perhaps I should see how well you even remember those skills," he purred, pleased at the way the Praxian's vents stalled briefly before the heat forced them back on.

"I remember what I have done," Prowl said firmly despite the anticipatory shiver of his field as it caressed Starscream eagerly. He stood, reminding Starscream of something that he had forgotten: Prowl was larger than Mirage, taller, broader and heavier. Then bright white hands slid along Starscream's flanks with Prowl's _desire_ shimmering between them.

"Of that, I have _no_ doubt," the Seeker grinned, leaning back against the desk with an encouraging rev from his engines. "Is the knowledge of how to use a glossa in those memories?"

"Yes," Prowl assured him with a kiss on the lips while he moved one hand to caress Starscream's spike cover, eagerness in every line of his frame.

Starscream turned his vision off as he leaned into the kiss, trying to forget the _Praxian_ part and focus on the physical pleasure part. He waited a klik or so, teasing their glossas together, letting Prowl feel the heating panel under his palm, before he placed a hand on the back of Prowl's neck and pressed down, just hard enough for Prowl to get the message. At the same moment, he unlocked the spike cover.

Unlike every other mech he'd done this to, Prowl offered no resistance, had no reluctance. He was eager to kneel before the noble he thought was his lover and his field showed it. Down on both knees Prowl continued to stroke the plating before him, but his lips and glossa were focused on the spike cover, seeking to open it from pleasure alone.

Starscream let his helm fall back, looking up through dim optics with one hand caressing the top of Prowl's helm. This was an act of humiliation, a power play, something to force or to be forced into. He knew it well from both roles. 

But Prowl was _enjoying_ the submission, and that alone made the Seeker's lines run surprisingly hot. Not to mention the exquisite sensory detail put into this frame. "Good," he murmured as his panel slid back, never for a nanoklik losing sight of the fact that this mech could beat him in any physical fight that took place on the ground. It was a task that grew harder when Prowl's lips caressed softly over his spike housing, then closed around it. A warm, slick glossa swirled around the housing next, then flicked over the top as Prowl sucked, creating a near-vacuum as he began to hum.

"Oh." Well. No one had ever done _that_ before. The spike's tip nudged out and was immediately greeted by the smooth, caressing heat of Prowl's glossa, curling around it lovingly and rubbing. " _Oh._ " Starscream's fingers tightened on the helm, thumbs running up and down the chevron points in his own caress. He could teek Prowl's pleasure from the act, his elation when the spike extended further into his mouth. It was unlike anything Starscream could remember, and it made him flash back to what Jazz's valve had been like and wondered how this culture of getting off on another's pleasure when you were the one submitting came about.

It was messed up in a big way, but _Pit_ if it didn't feel good.

With every micron that escaped the housing, Prowl rewarded Starscream with intense pleasure and that much more eager excitement in his field. Each stroke of Starscream's finger across his chevron also gave a flare of pleasure. White hands were in on it, too, seeking out gaps in armor to caress, hot spots to stimulate.

For a mech who probably hadn't had an encounter of any kind during the entirety of the war and then some, Prowl was hot and eager when he did give himself.

He murmured encouragements in Mirage's voice, let the vocalizer moan and gasp as it willed. The glossa spread beneath his spike, pushing and pulling as it learned the textures against it, paying careful attention to each dense sensor mat until Starscream's legs were actually trembling. Without hesitation and with a bit of evident pride, Prowl's hands slid down to help support the frame he was pleasuring, promising that it wouldn't fall.

It was yet another consideration that Starscream wasn't used to. There was no shoving down an intake, just slow, careful pleasure and all he'd had to do was ask. "Very, _very_ good," he moaned, reveling in having the SIC of the Autobots on his knees before him, _willingly_ pleasuring his spike.

It was more than a bit processor blowing.

Pleasure sprayed across Starscream's entire awareness when his spike was taken into Prowl's intake and then _massaged_ by it. Not the panicked constrictions of the unfamiliar or unprepared, but something much closer to Jazz's valve. Every movement indented to bring the greatest pleasure possible, because the giver _wanted_ to.

It was their Prime, it _had_ to be. All that nonsense about loving each other. And the frustrating part was, it _worked_. The Autobots were a cohesive unit. They weren't strong individually, but they worked together well. Starscream could understand trusting two, possibly four others in a trine or a quint, but all his fellow Decepticons? 

Not a chance. He could barely trust his leader on Megatron's good orns.

Contemplation ceased very suddenly when Prowl swallowed around him and lips pressed to his housing, the spike fully inside his new lover's frame. Starscream gripped, gasped, and shook in a single, white-out moment of bliss as the frame he was in spasmed in response to the unfamiliar, overloading into the heat.

He gradually came back to awareness to feel Prowl slowly licking him clean. A kiss was placed against the tip of his still very hard spike, then a playful lick before Prowl started to slide his helm down again.

Starscream stopped him with a single touch. Bright blue optics turned upward to look at him and Prowl licked again, swirling his glossa around. Starscream stroked his helm and Prowl nuzzled into the touch with purring engines, pleased with the silent praise inherent in the touch. 

Mirage's black fingers then slowly trailed down to wrap around the finely crafted spike, holding it lightly and rubbing the length against Prowl's slightly parted mouth, fully enjoying the visual. "Very lovely," he murmured with a small grin.

Another thrill went through Prowl's field and Starscream placed the tip right on his lower lip, putting enough pressure behind it to instruct Prowl to continue. Prowl opened his mouth again, sliding his helm down slowly to take the full length into his mouth and intake again. 

Starscream moaned deeply. The frame he was in had calmed a bit after one overload and was better able to enjoy the sensations of Prowl's lips on the spike as the Praxian bobbed up and down, lavishing attention with every part of his mouth and intake. It felt amazing and was all the sweeter for the who and how willing he was. Oh, he'd fantasized about this on occasion, taking his counterpart's mouth with the mech on his knees in submission, but never had he imagined _this_.

Primus, that _visual!_ The ranking Praxian, even if he hadn't always been a Praxian, acting like a well-trained pleasurebot for his master.

Up and down the white helm and red chevron went. The intake clenching and swallowing around the sensitive spike. Up and down, up and down Prowl's helm went, humming and licking. Up and down, asking for nothing but to know he was pleasing to his master.

If he hadn't had that first overload, Starscream would have been long lost by now, learning exactly what Mirage's vocalizer sounded like in a scream of bliss. That this powerful creature was _his_ to control at the slightest touch or direction was addictive on so many levels. 

He didn't last nearly as long as he would have liked, but Starscream's cooling vents were running at full speed with both hands holding onto Prowl's helm near the end, shaking, trying to hold back. He managed a few more kliks once he started trying, but after that, control slipped away as his hips bucked forward and he slammed against Prowl's mouth, holding the Praxian's helm there as he almost doubled over with his shout.

Here and there, in between the waves of shooting bliss that whited out the world, Starscream caught enough awareness to feel that Prowl was relaxed despite the grip and grinding and every other signal that Starscream knew that marked the situation as out of Prowl's control. The Autobot was relaxed, pleased and _very_ aroused as he swallowed transfluid and coaxed a bit more out.

Dimly, he was aware that reciprocation would be considered the polite thing to do, though that idea was a bit harder to come to terms with. 

"Very good," he purred again to the Praxian as he finally forced his grip to relax. The praise earned a deeper purr and flare of pleasure through Prowl's field as the Praxian gradually worked his way off the spike, licking it clean as he went and sending jolts of pleasure into Starscream's systems. It was only when the mouth completely left him and Prowl stood that Starscream really had the wherewithal to try and focus on the issue of getting Prowl off.

Starscream couldn't offer his valve, since the seal was still in place. Oral did not have pleasant connotations for him, though he'd done far worse. Maybe Prowl would accept being spiked? Or possibly a hand job. An overload was an overload to these mecha, wasn't it?

And Prowl was teeking like he was ready to pop, so hopefully he wouldn't be insulted by a less _intimate_ method. The Praxian's mouth was against his again and Starscream tilted his head back to accept the kiss, quietly amazed by how the power dynamic could flow through even into this, with every movement that Prowl made reading as submissive. He was _bigger_ and _stronger_ than Starscream, to be submissive to him was something any Decepticon would find unacceptably weak. 

Starscream pushed his hand down the frame and pressed his palm to the spike cover, rubbing in smooth circles. Mirage didn't have any memories of how to deal with really pleasing a spike, but Starscream knew how to squirm his way out of getting a spike shoved down his intake by using his fingers. It worked, sometimes. Hopefully with the 'everybody enjoys it' mentality the Autobots seemed to foster, Prowl would take what was offered and not want more.

The moan of pleasure and surge of _want_ as the cover snapped open with anticipatory pleasure caused Prowl's helm to tip back and his optics to flicker and dim. 

Starscream grinned at the sight. Arguably the most influential Autobot and he was little better than putty in his hands. It was a definite power trip. 

Of course, how easily two Autobots had already made him scream meant nothing. This was about _him_. 

His finger circled the housing and the emerging spike. "So eager for me," he purred, watching Prowl's optics flicker. 

"Yes," Prowl's moan came with his forearms resting on Starscream's shoulders for support, willing and eager for what he was being offered.

Starscream hummed and something within Mirage's processors prompted him to lean in and press his mouth against the Praxian's neck, licking hotly up the external cables as he coaxed the spike out easily. "How long can you last?" he asked in a heated whisper.

"Not long, without cheating. Maybe a couple kliks," Prowl's moan deepened and he leaned into the licking kiss. "Been too long, too hot already."

"Then I guess the question becomes how _fast_ can I make you pop," Starscream grinned as he slid his hand up and down, once long and smooth, and then speeding up with each subsequent stroke.

Prowl's fans immediately hit high and the Autobot gulped, shaking. His helm slid forward, resting alongside Starscream's as his optics switched off. He simply held on, willingly going for whatever ride was given.

 _Such_ a power trip. Starscream could get used to this. "Doing so well," he praised softly, nibbling at the neck still exposed to him. "You're a treasure to watch, did you know that? I've been watching you for vorns."

Prowl's vents hitched and he braced himself more firmly against Starscream's frame to keep himself from thrusting into the hand giving him so much pleasure it was difficult to think. "Why ... never ... respond ... before?" he managed to gasp out between deepening moans.

"Talk after," Starscream whispered, buying time to think, and also because Prowl didn't seem to realize what a slagging mood kill a question like that in the middle of _this_ was. "Focus on _this_ now." He twisted his wrist, dragged his thumb over the head.

Prowl's powerful pursuit engine _roared_ as he gripped Starscream's shoulders tightly with a stiffening frame. One more stroke and swipe of a thumb over the head and his helm snapped back with a roar as the first hot burst of charged transfluid exploded across Starscream's hand and onto his plating. Both frame and spark flinched unhappily at the sensation, but Starscream managed to keep stroking without letting the distaste show, working the spike in ever slowing rubs until the last one tightened in and pulled up, teasing out every bit of transfluid that he could manage. "You look good like that."

Prowl hummed something along the lines of agreement/glad as he panted against his lover, armor fluffing and contracting to circulate air faster while his core relaxed and field settled into contentment.

Starscream forced himself to cuddle up to the other mech once he'd licked his fingers clean--a humiliation, but one that the frame _needed_ very quickly and not one that any Decepticon would see, at least--arms going around his waist. "You have to understand, responding to any of your advances meant admitting that I would never be with my own kind again," he said quietly. 

Prowl hummed his understanding and easy acceptance of the half-truth and belatedly fumbled around his subspace for a cloth that could clean the remainder of the transfluid from his lover's frame and offered it. They both knew he wasn't coordinated enough yet to do it himself. Starscream accepted it all too happily, glad to have his frame free of mess while they stood here in mutual silence until Prowl had recovered and they both had calmed enough that their spikes were fully retracted and covers in place.

The Praxian shifted his helm for a kiss, long, slow and tender, then drew back with a look of uncertainty.

Starscream nuzzled him, petting along the flightless wings in an attempt to soothe. "If you'd like, you may come back with me to my quarters to recharge," he offered. "But I will not be offended if you wish to get back to work."

Prowl nodded, relaxing slightly. "I do have work to do. How often do you wish to recharge together?"

"At least some of the time," Starscream said. "To start slowly, at least once per week."

Prowl canted his doorwings in agreement. "I will arrange for the timing to work," he promised.

"I will leave you to it," Starscream said, stepped back with a smile, and inclined his helm. "That was ... quite enjoyable. Thank you."

* * *

So the Praxian had a spike, and he liked it used. As hideous as the idea was to Starscream, letting Prowl frag his frame's valve would probably be a good idea. And he personally wanted to see what the sensors in there were like. 

But he did not, under any circumstances, want to experience a grounder breaking a seal, even if it wasn't his own. His own being broken by a damn shuttle had been bad enough--Starscream tried not to remember his rebellious phase very often--he was _not_ lying through a rerun. 

There was a salve to help soften the seal in preparation, but Mirage didn't have any of it. There was only one mech with a rank that the noble considered high enough to take his valve, and he simply wasn't interested in the Prime. Therefore, he'd supposed he would go the rest of his life with the seal, and wasn't bothered by it. 

Too bad for the spy. No one had the luxury of a seal anymore, he might as well join the rest of them.

He could feel the frame respond to his plans and that it _was not happy_ with it.

Too bad again. He didn't care what the frame thought. He had his plans and that was what would happen. So he went rummaging around Mirage's quarters for something sharp to cut the seal and help remove it. It wouldn't do to leave traces for Prowl to find, either. That would involve questions that he didn't want to have to fake answers to. The mech had already proven that he could ask the most mood-killing questions at the most inappropriate of times.

It wasn't long before thinking of _sharp things_ led him to a hidden compartment in the room, a safe, and thinking of opening it produced the results he wanted. Inside were weapons, some expected, like blasters and blades, and some unexpected, like a nasty piece of work that he was _sure_ was a rust gun. Even _Megatron_ refused to use those things. Plus ropes, explosives and many weird odds and ends that brought a sensation of grim determination to the frame with flickering memories of _last recourse_ training. Not of suicide, but of suicide missions and internal warfare.

Maybe the Autobots weren't as united as they put on?

The frame's memories didn't indicate that feeling though. It was nothing like the sensation Starscream knew from living in such a situation. It was more of a _what if_ kind of thing.

It was _Jazz_.

Starscream chuckled when he finally sorted out enough memories. The SpecOps commander and Autobot TIC was prepared to use assassination against his own side if he deemed it needed, and Mirage was a willing, if not eager, player.

He just kept finding better and better tidbits in these processors. They would have to take a closer look at splitting apart the Autobot forces--it had always been deemed impossible, but they'd never known _this_ before. 

With a thoughtful hum to himself, Starscream refocused on his search and finally located an ornate dagger. Diamond hard and forged alloy sharp, it was a decorative piece not intended for battle. Mirage was fond of this dagger, a piece of his home, which made it even more perfect. Towers mecha had always thought themselves so much mightier than the rest, throwing their glittering energon parties while the rest of the planet starved beneath their pedes. 

Cutting the seal was going to hurt, but it would also be a true _pleasure_. 

The frame tried to rebel, tried to put the blade back and comm Jazz, something that caught Starscream off guard. _He_ was in charge. This was _his_ frame now. How could it rebel against itself?

He looked at the dagger in his hand, frowning, as he tried to locate the source of the internal disruption. It led him to memories of an incident that he knew well, but not from Mirage's point of view. Mirage still felt something similar to _terror_ when he thought about Bombshell and how it had felt to have his frame out of his control. After that, Jazz had installed software that would monitor the spy's actions and comm him should his agent go too far out of character too quickly. 

Breaking this seal was _definitely_ out of character. Starscream set the dagger down for long enough to quiet the protocols, spent the next half joor working out how to keep them from alerting Jazz, and then took the dagger back to the berth. He set it down on the berthside shelf and knelt on the berth, his back against the wall. It would give him the best angle and perspective of what he was doing. Important with such a delicate area and a frame that knew it so poorly.

He commanded the panel back and felt gingerly at the thick, dense rubber, wincing as he did. The processors were horrified, and he wasn't inclined to disagree. Seals were a barbaric form of control that had no place in their advanced race. He couldn't _believe_ that someone as enlightened as this spy thought himself would keep one. 

Another klik of unhappy prodding and the Seeker huffed, slumping back. It was going to hurt no matter what he did, but heat from the frame might help at least soften the material. It was ice cold and hard right now. His hands moved gratefully up to the spike panel, which drew away eagerly. The frame was learning to enjoy at least this part of itself. Or relearning, really. Mirage had good memories of his spike, he'd just all but shut down that part of himself when the Towers fell. Which just proved his insanity to Starscream. Interfacing was _good_. Whether it was about pleasure or power, it was good.

His fingers circled the spike housing as it unlatched and the tip slid out, eager for pleasure. He brushed over it with careful fingers, relaxing against the wall as thumb and forefinger stroked lightly up and down, staying focused on the tip even as most of the length drew out. Sensitive, beautiful, not something to be hidden away. 

Legs splayed out lazily as he finally curled the fingers of his other hand around the shaft, squeezing in rhythmic pulses with short, almost-strokes, massaging the length as everything else stayed focused on the tip. The charge built quickly and Starscream realized that if he wanted heat he'd need to slow down. The charge could push him to overload faster than his frame could heat up.

It was annoying, but he did manage to get himself slowed down enough to back away from the edge of overload. He tried to focus on exploring the spy's processors to distract himself as he worked, and every time he felt himself get close, he just imagined Megatron's face. It was suitably deterring to both spark and frame, and that method kept him going until he could feel the plating burning under his fingers. 

A quick check on the seal proved it to be significantly warmer than it had been as it absorbed the heat coming in from all around it, and he wasn't sure, but he though the inside of the valve might be lubricating, too. He was going to enjoy exploring that. Even if he didn't get spiked the way he enjoyed much anymore because of politics and slim pickings, he was still a valve mech at spark. 

He missed Thundercracker right now. The mech knew how to treat his trinemate right, whether he was spike or valve. Not as good as Jazz's valve, or Prowl's mouth, but better than most prospects on board the Nemesis.

He moaned as spark-memories of Thundercracker's best attentions washed through his spark. They were dim without the processor data, but all the more arousing for it too.

With the seal hot enough--or his patience thin enough--he gladly began imagining the other Seeker in place of Megatron. His hand sped up and fingertips flicked and swirled around the tip, and with his cooling vans straining, he overloaded with a loud shout, hips pushing up off the berth into the air as he shot scalding transfluid out. 

Panting, his armor heaving as it helped pump air around his inner workings, Starscream relaxed to enjoy the tingle and hazy pleasure of the charge dissipating before he reached for the blade.

He stroked the spike a few times as his frame settled and he carefully lined the tip up before lifting a finger up to his mouth to bite down on. He was under no illusions that this was going to be _pleasant_ , so he might as well be prepared. 

Another moment spent working himself up to it, and he pushed down, easily slicing through the seal and into the valve. His frame went rigid and his back strut arched, optics flaring white as he muffled the shriek as best he could. He held there, vents heaving, for just a moment before twisting the blade in a circle, shredding more of the seal. 

He felt the tip nick the inner lining and _pain_ of an entirely new kind screamed at him. Background reports told him it was very minor, barely a hard scratch, but with such a sensor-laden location, it hurt as much as getting an arm torn off.

He pulled the blade out to avoid any more of that and worked a finger into the gash, feeling the jagged ends. Was it _really_ fragging necessary to pack so many sensors into a piece whose only purpose was to be broken? he wondered with a low growl as he tore and pulled at the shreds. Heat made them soft and more willing to come off, but the lubricant from the valve made them slippery and hard to hold onto, but they came off to his determined picking.

Normally, they would fall off naturally from the friction of a spike dragging over them combined with a salve to help soften the material, which was a much more pleasant alternative, but at least this was effective. His frame slumped down and finally relaxed when a careful check found no more remnants and he took a moment to settle himself before pressing two fingers fully in. The rim was sore and didn't appreciate the attention, but deeper inside he was still slick, warm and the sensors fired pleasantly.

The frame's processors were flat out horrified at what was happening. Not just at having the seal torn away in such a manner, but then _fingers_ , his own fingers, stuck inside.

Mirage had one term that summed up his opinion of all of it: barbaric.

Starscream smirked to himself. Perhaps the spy would come around to realize his point of view with some time and pleasure. And he was all too happy to demonstrate just what that pleasure could be. 

He shifted so that he was laying back on the berth, knees fallen open as he slowly pulled in and out, scissoring his fingers lightly to provide careful, gentle stretch to the unused passage. 

It felt good. It felt _so_ good. Sensitive, delicate lining that quivered eagerly around the fingers, sensors that had never been stimulated before. Heat and slick and _good_.

He sighed at the pleasure, relaxing into it and drawing on memories of how good a spike felt, or a glossa, and moaned as he rocked into his own touch. He would _definitely_ be asking Prowl to give this valve a full working over, and watched with some amusement as the processor stuttered with horror. 

Prowl was of a _lower rank_. Prowl didn't _deserve_ that.

All the better to turn everything on its head. He'd enjoy watching the Praxian come to terms with what was being asked of him. If he had as good of a read as he thought he did, the Praxian would do whatever Starscream demanded.

That thought and the images of the politically powerful mech on his knees, eagerly sucking his spike like it was his very function caused Starscream's internal temperature to skyrocket. He'd be getting off on that mental image for a long, long time. If he was lucky, he might even be able to download the full high-res files he'd recorded of the entire encounter once he was in his own frame. It wouldn't be difficult to edit it to appear to be his own frame rather than this one. He'd just need a little time with Mirage's offline frame, and that would be so easy to arrange. 

Memories shifted to fantasy and he imagined commanding the Praxian onto his back, ordering him to extend his spike for Starscream to ride. Use the Praxian like the hardware he was, _teaching_ him his place on the ground, beneath the fliers. 

Starscream shouted and bucked his hips onto his fingers, the valve squeezing in around them as it rippled and flexed in overload. Its first overload.

Oh, it was sweet, intense and so very good. There was nothing like the first overload. Nothing.

He slowly sagged, the pleasurable tingle lingering, his valve twitching around his fingers with little jolts of electricity. Not as good as a spike, but oh, it was good.

Gradually he drew his fingers out and brought them up to his mouth to taste. Clean, clear, sweet. Everything he would have expected of this frame. He cleaned all of it off, humming the entire time, and then rolled onto his side with purring engines to take a quick nap before work began again.

* * *

He really couldn't have gotten shoved into a better frame, Starscream mused as he headed down to Prowl's office. Mirage not only knew how to destroy things, but he knew how to do it with finesse and secrecy. Megatron would be pleased with the results, especially the hidden time-delay viruses that would cripple the Ark over the next local years. 

He'd caused an energon supply system to reverse on itself, back up, and explode the primary holding tank a week before and the Autobots were still reeling from the loss. It had immediately put them down to emergency rations. 

And this _disruptor_. Starscream was under strict orders to only use it when necessary or risk long-term damage, but he didn't care about long-term damage. He'd spent a good amount of time walking around invisible with his comm signal masked from the obnoxious Teletraan I, just observing the mecha here. 

He was very, very grateful to not have been shoved into the frame of a minibot. 

With all the "glitches" around the Ark, Prowl had been kept very busy for the last few weeks, and the time they'd spend together had been a lot of talking, with just a little spike play. He'd learned that those frame rebuilds hadn't been about repairs as he'd assumed, but marked a new existence and function Prowl had taken on. There had been hints that at one point Prowl had been on the streets, and somewhere in getting out was when he'd gotten his tac-net that had done so much damage to the Decepticon's war effort. He'd called far more than Polyhex, Ibex and Praxus home too, though getting details hadn't happened yet.

He'd learned a few interesting things about the Autobot ranks too, like the fact that the scouts were all SpecOps. Starscream had long been reasonably sure that the yellow minibot had been, and that was confirmed, but the real surprise was that the holographic one was too. Hound, Mirage supplied, and it was with a feeling of respect, though little liking. Then there was Jazz's function as unofficial morale officer, though the real surprise for Starscream was that the unofficial morale officer's SIC was _Sideswipe_ of all mecha. The psychotic terror of a flying grounder was the go-to mech when you wanted something, anything, from a party to the items that made Prowl _fume_. Rather like Swindle, but apparently with much better PR.

It was all nice trivia, but Starscream was eager for more, and so, apparently, was Prowl, because the mech had scheduled himself off for half a Cybertronian orn, nearly a full local week. 

"Prowl," he announced himself warmly as he entered the office. 

The Praxian's doorwings fluttered a greeting before Prowl looked up with a warm, welcoming smile. Or at least what passed for one. It had only been a decaorn, but Starscream was fairly sure he was good at reading the Autobot's moods. He definitely knew the two important ones: I'm aroused and I'm _busy_. The second meant you kept your mouth shut and did not distract him. Starscream had learned that one the hard way. Prowl was not above assigning him horrible duties or even the brig if it meant he had quiet to work.

This, however, was anything but _go away, I'm busy_. Prowl was happy to see him and stood, apparently ready to leave his office.

"And just where are we going?" he asked with a chuckle, holding his arm out for Prowl to take as they walked. "I thought you lived here."

"I do," Prowl said with an easy flick of his doorwing. "I expected that you would wish to spend our personal time in your quarters, away from my work."

"Where exactly do you recharge?" Starscream asked with an easy smile as he nodded and began walking towards his--Mirage's--quarters. The spy had a nice berth, as they went, and getting the Praxian to frag him would be much nicer there. 

Prowl hesitated, though it was only from their close contact that Starscream felt it. A flick of a doorwing told him to ask later.

That was curious, but not terribly uncharacteristic for the solitary mech. Starscream hummed in acceptance with a comforting caress from his field as they walked in silence back to his quarters. 

He entered first, knowing Prowl would expect such an action from the SpecOps agent, demonstrating that it was safe. Prowl followed after him, and as soon as the door closed, Starscream turned and pushed Prowl's back against the wall, pressing their mouths together in a heated kiss that was returned just as wantonly. Prowl's hands were all over him, caressing his sides, his back, the wheels and struts.

"Wanted you," Starscream gasped when they finally parted, more than a few kliks later when Prowl had all but lost himself in the rising heat of their frames and the promise of more. He pressed in for another kiss, this time turning and pulling Prowl along with him, walking backwards for the berth. At the last moment, he spun the Praxian and pushed him down into a sit, immediately climbing into his lap, straddling. Up on his knees, he was tall enough to tilt his head down for the kiss. "All right?" he asked, the words caught between their mouths as they pressed back in again and again. "Too fast?" 

"Not too fast," Prowl moaned in submission that was not the least bit resentful, arousal flaring hot and bright through him. "I was hoping you would want this."

"Very much," Starscream promised him, truth and seduction woven into the rich voice. "Lay back. There's something I want very much."

Prowl shivered in anticipation and only a bit of nerves as he complied. Settling on his back, his doorwings splayed, he relaxed and spread his legs. Pale blue optics watched, focused wanting and uneasy all at once.

"Shh," Starscream soothed with a kiss, and then a finger to Prowl's lips. "I promise I'll take care of you."

The Praxian nodded, kissed the finger and flared his field. Trust, yes. Willingness. Desire. Unease. It was all there to teek, like having an open datastream that Prowl was offering up. It was by far the most vulnerable offering he'd given yet.

"This is a good look on you," Starscream purred to him of his being on his back like this, vulnerable, doorwings pinned. Starscream didn't know if it was true of Praxians, but for Seekers, lying on their back like that was a sign of trust, submission, or both. It never failed to give him a rush. He settled over Prowl's hips, brushing his fingers down his front, stopping at his spike cover and stroking it in a careful, gentle outline. It snapped open, willing and eager as Prowl gave a soft moan of anticipation, and Starscream grinned. He unlocked his valve cover and let it slide away, watching Prowl's face closely as the Praxian realized that it hadn't been the spike panel.

Surprise hit first, then relief before Prowl's gaze moved up to meet Starscream's. "I would have pleasured your valve if I'd know you like it."

Well, that was a disappointment, Starscream thought to himself. He'd wanted resistance, and to make the Praxian submit to his will. Compliance was just so ... he sighed ... _Autobot_. Externally, he smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "I didn't want you to think badly of me," he said. "For wanting a spike from the wrong caste."

Comprehension flashed across Prowl's features and he managed to teek embarrassed, but his hands traveled along his lover's frame to entice little flares of pleasure. "Only the first mattered by the rules I was raised under. I did not realize they had changed."

Slag. 

Ah, _slag_. 

He'd been so ready to get rid of that damn seal, and he really should have spent some more time going over the convoluted noble rules about who could interface with whom and when and how. 

Which gave him about two seconds to figure out how to answer that. 

"You are my first," he murmured, looking right into Prowl's optics. "I lost the seal from battle damage."

Shock hit Prowl hard, his mouth opening slightly as he processed that. Starscream watched as the Praxian backpedaled and scrambled to correlate that information. 

"Mirage...." It was all Prowl could manage for a good half klik. "You ... _want_...." he reset his vocalizer when it spit static. "I am honored," he trembled under his lover, teeking of how unworthy he felt at this, but also how much he wanted to please his lover. "What of Prime?"

"I do not desire Prime," Starscream said, calm against Prowl's nervous-excited anxiety. "I have been thinking this out for a long time. I've spent the time I need to come to terms with where life has brought us."

Prowl trembled, slowly calming the sensations of uneasiness. "Thank you," he finally managed, and just how honored he felt to be given this was bright and warm against Starscream's field and plating.

Starscream's mouth turned up in a smile. This was more like it. Shock and drama. And _power_. "I know you will please me," he purred, circling the housing for the spike that wasn't worthy of this frame. The reaction Mirage would have to realizing what had happened would be all the sweeter for how good it felt to set up this kind of pain for Prowl.

A soft moan and press into the touch showed Prowl was more than willing to do whatever Starscream wanted. The well constructed but fairly mundane white spike with its red tip and gold racing stripes over the black sides emerged at Starscream's touch, responsive as always.

The thrum of the Seeker's engines deepened and he stroked the length up and down, examining it with new optics. His valve was slick and ready, even if it didn't know quite what _for_. This was going to be fun. 

Without any more preamble he lifted himself up, holding the spike in place with two fingers, lining their frames up and sinking back down, enveloping the length with his heat. 

Oh, _frag_ this frame was tight. And not tight from cycling close around the spike, but tight to the point of the lining needing to stretch and actually tear. Nothing the self-repair systems couldn't handle, they were micro injuries, but he _felt_ this stretch in a way he hadn't in a very long time. 

It _was not_ pleasant, but that just meant they would have to do this again. And again.

"There," he whispered when Prowl was fully seated inside, stilling there to give both frame and lover time to adjust. Prowl was panting. It had taken all his will to hold still while that incredible tightness was lowered around him. He'd managed and now he was watching his lover's face with absolute intensity, his entire universe narrowed to reading and reacting to what his lover wanted of him.

"You are wonderful," Starscream murmured with a slight grin, then coaxed his unwilling frame into a slow, careful rock. More damage, but _pleasure_ , too. Yes, the noble had an exquisite valve. He settled light fingertips on Prowl's chest, working his way into a gentle, rolling repetition with his hips. The shuddering processors were starting to still as the pleasure trickled in, zapping its way through the wires. Starscream would show this frame how to enjoy itself. 

"So good," Prowl moaned, his optics dimming as his charge built quickly. His frame trembled in the effort it took him not to move. Every interface protocol he had was calling for him to thrust into his lover's movements, but he knew a valve that tight wasn't ready. Not unless he was _told_ so.

And Starscream was perfectly happy to pleasure himself and watch that struggle as he did, purring praises and adorations the entire time. Only when Prowl looked like he might actually hurt himself from the effort of not moving did Starscream still, holding about halfway up the length. "You may thrust," he said. 

Relief flashed across Prowl's field as his features briefly relaxed before screwing up with the intensity of the pleasure surging through him. Yet even given permission, he didn't jam his hips upwards like any normal mecha would do. His hands came to rest on Starscream's hips, a brace and guide rather than to hold and he pushed his hips upwards, pressing into that slick, tight heat as he moaned.

That was cute, Starscream decided. Foolish and weak, but cute. He leaned back, hands going down to the berth to brace against, giving his hips the freedom to move in small answering circles to Prowl's careful thrusts. The frame was appreciative of the gentleness, and it belatedly occurred to Starscream that Prowl was conscious of the fact that he was breaking this frame in, literally. Any 'Con would have grabbed and taken without regard. Any _'Con_ would have acted in self-interest. It was right, and sane.

But it didn't feel this good.

It definitely wouldn't have felt this good. He knew from playing that Prowl was perfectly willing and capable of being forceful. The frame had the strength and the mech had the will for it. It made it all the more intoxicating to have Prowl under his control. It was fun to dominate a weak mecha. It was _exhilarating_ to dominate a strong one.

He moaned and trilled in pleasure, stringing Prowl along with the display of how much he was enjoying this moment that would have been an incredibly intimate one for the mech he _thought_ he was with. 

For Starscream, it was an amusing game. He just regretted he wouldn't be around to witness the fallout himself. Maybe Laserbeak...

He groaned, the pleasure of Prowl's careful thrusts far more than the pain now, and even with the pain he was close, so wonderfully close, to an overload. He really thought the Praxian would have lost it by now. _He_ certainly would have, with valve like this? Was this an endurance test or something? 

He focused closely on Prowl's face and field, and then it hit him--Prowl was holding out. He was waiting for his lover to overload. Letting the valve--the aggressor, the _truly_ more powerful lover--trigger his overload...

Starscream was torn between being impressed and scornful. He took a certain pride in driving his lovers out of control. It was an accepted truism that the spike was the more powerful interfacing piece, but Starscream had long disagreed. When mecha were of equal strength, it was the valve partner who _allowed_ the spike to find relief in the specialized piece designed for it. A spike could be easily replicated, more or less, but a valve... 

Starscream hummed, tried an experimental squeeze, felt the brand new valve ripple in surprised pleasure, and screamed in ecstasy. Below him Prowl roared, his hips jerking upward as a hot burst of transfluid crackled into the deepest recesses of Starscream's new body to send a fresh wave of ecstasy through him. It triggered an immediate second overload and oh _frag_ that felt amazing. Starscream seized and arched, riding the hard spike with some amount of desperation until he shuddered with the end of it and fell forward, catching himself at the last moment, panting, over Prowl. "Wow," he purred.

Prowl smiled up at him, dazed by his own extended and very intense overload. His hands came up to stroke down Starscream's back, but it lacked the fluid grace the Praxian normally had. "Glad," he eventually managed to murmur.

"That was wonderful," Starscream said, tucking his head under Prowl's chin. "I think I'm kind of glad I decided to screw the rules for once."

Prowl chuckled softly as his hands became steadier. "As am I," he purred, quite content to remain exactly where he was, relaxed and holding his first lover since well before the war.

Starscream was just as happy to relax and bask in what he could easily decide was worship. "So where do you recharge?" he asked after a few kliks of silence.

"I do not, except when Ratchet turns me off for medical issues," Prowl admitted, very quiet and a bit uneasily.

"You don't _recharge?_ " Starscream said, lifting his head. Well, slag! "But ... _how?_ Does Jazz know?" And where had _that_ question come from?

"Mecha require recharge primarily for self repair and to defrag their processors. It is very poorly designated as it has nothing to do with gaining energy," Prowl sighed. "Part of my tac-net upgrades included truly experimental technology, coding for how to power down and defrag only part of my processors at a time. It works because I have sufficient processors to operate effectively under most conditions with half or less of my full set on line at any given time. So the hardware is cycled through shutdown, defrag and self-repair maintenance in sections. According to Ratchet, it should not work, though my existence proves otherwise. I would assume Jazz knows. There is little of my past he has not uncovered."

"That is remarkable," Starscream said. Eliminating the need for recharge... "Who _designed_ those upgrades?" he asked, lifting his head and propping himself up on Prowl's chest. "I'd like to meet that mech."

"It was part of a government program, or so I was lead to believe. I do not know who did the work of designing or installing, only my handler for the project duration," Prowl told him. "The odds that the mecha who created my tac-net having survived is less than 0.0000123%."

"That's really too bad," Starscream said, and he meant it. He would have loved to meet the mind behind this mech. "Did you volunteer for it?"

"In a manner," he grimaced. "I was given a choice. I chose to be an experiment for something they wouldn't even risk a military mech on."

Yellow optics brightened curiously and if Starscream still had his wings, they would have lifted straight up. "Is that a story I get to hear someday?" he asked, leaning in for a soft kiss. 

Prowl relaxed and purred into the kiss, eager and willing for the attention he'd lacked for so much of his existence. "Only if you wish to know just how inappropriate my background makes me as a mate."

"I might as well know what I've gotten myself into," Starscream said with a smile and a helm nuzzle. "I already knew you weren't appropriate, these things don't really come in variants. You're appropriate or you aren't, but there is no more family to shun me."

Prowl hummed, a sound intended as both acceptance and comfort. "After my family banished me, I was dumped in the gutters of Tarn. Not a good place for a young Polyhexian noble with no guards, even if I didn't look much like a noble by the time my former kin were done with me. The only things that kept me alive were my speed and mastery of Teris-Spi. Those I couldn't escape I could fight off. It brought me to the attention of the crime lord of the city and he made me a guard, gave me the designation of Darkclaw. I wasn't a very good one, though. Too young and far too angry to be obedient. It wasn't long before I bolted when he tried to have me deactivated. I made my way to Ibex and the racetracks with the credits and goods I stole on my way out of Tarn. That's where I found something I was very good at."

Starscream hummed. "Chasing," he said, as a guess taken both from his own memories and Mirage's. "Catching someone in front of you." 

"Well, I was good at that too, but I was very good with numbers. A few bets a vorn kept me in energon. A few a metacycle paid for the first full frame rebuild into a high-performance racer and a lifestyle comparable to what I'd been sparked for. I was poised to go pro when ... are you old enough to remember the Velocitron Racing Scandal?"

Starscream shook his helm, fascinated by this story. He'd never guessed that Prowl, dull, near-drone like Prowl, enforcer of rules of no consequence, had this much _interesting_ history to him.

"I was in the middle of it," Prowl murmured. "Under the designation Flashdrive. Convicted and sentenced to be executed."

"Is that when you volunteered for that rebuild?" Starscream asked with a purr, stroking a finger down Prowl's chest. 

"It was that or extinguish. I was willing to take a chance that _something_ of me might be left afterwards," Prowl sighed with the pleasant tingle. "I was still very young and arrogant then. I honestly did not believe that anything could be worse than deactivation. I'd survived the gutters after all. Become wealthy, successful. Wealthy enough I could have had my wings back if I'd decided to."

"Wings?" Starscream murmured, lifting his optics up from where he'd been gazing at Prowl's mouth. "What were you created as?"

"Framebase 74-KJY59-754-196HJK-005," Prowl rattled off. It took Starscream a long klik to track that down and come up with a light, fast propeller-powered frame, something designed for sport or stunts. Nothing compared to a Seeker, but it was still a flier, and it flew fast for its class.

"Why not get them back now?" Starscream asked, gazing with some shock. A _flier_. Prowl was a _flier._ "Isn't it awful, to be confined by gravity, after you've known the sky?"

"I remember that it was almost intolerable, before the racing upgrades," Prowl closed his optics and turned them off. "Sometimes it still is. I would have been rebuilt as a flier again if I'd managed to race long enough to retire. The reality is that the tac-net is too power-hungry. I _can't_ fly, even if I had a frame that could. A glider, possibly, but never again a flier. I tried, early in the war. Another pair of wings, even as weak as mine would be against a Seeker's, would have been well worth any risk. Not even Ratchet can undo what the experiment did to me. Not if the Autobots want to keep their tactician." The last part was said bitterly. 

"I'm ... so sorry," Starscream said, and he _was_. No matter what else the tactician was, no matter how disgraceful it was to accept a life without wings, Starscream knew that he wouldn't have survived what this mech had. "Why did your family do that to you?"

Pain, hate and grief all flared through Prowl's field and Starscream knew this was not something that Prowl had come even close to accepting.

"I refused the mech they chose for me," he said quietly. "I refused to obey."

Mirage's processors understood on a deep level. Even this long in the Autobots under Optimus, Mirage _agreed_ with what had been done to Prowl and was a tiny bit angry at the mech for having rebuilt his life again and again.

Starscream had to respect Prowl just that much more. Rebelling against the institution? He understood that, extremely well. "Probably wouldn't have approved of me, either," he said with a small smile. "Grounder, and all."

"Not particularly, but you had the rank and wealth to have persuaded them," Prowl caressed Mirage's back gently. "Politics trump frame and city prejudice when strong enough. That is all long behind us now, however. We are both Autobots, even if our deep coding doesn't always agree."

"Indeed," Starscream murmured. "What ... keeps you going?" he asked. "So far from what you started as. Why do you fight?"

Prowl went silent for a surprisingly long time. Or at least it was surprising to Starscream. He teeked of deep thought where the Seeker had been expecting a rote response about Prime and doing right and all that Autobot slag.

"What keeps me going is the challenge. I need to _work_ , _think_ hard and have something to _do_ ," Prowl eventually said, his field calm, settled and certain. "I'm an Autobot because I saw what Megatron was with his first speech. He wanted personal power, not to create a better government for the people. He wanted a revolution because he saw it as the easiest way to get that power. Not once in his plans for the future of Cybertron was any hint that he knew or even wanted to help the very mecha he was leading. He only became more unstable as the war dragged on and he didn't have his personal power over everything yet. Fighting to extinction is the height of insanity, but it is better than living under a tyrant."

Starscream gazed at him. "Can I ask you ... something blasphemous?" he said in a low voice.

"Yes," Prowl said after a momentary pause. "It will not go beyond us."

"Who do you think Jazz would follow in a split, you or Prime?" Starscream's optics stayed steady, calm, fixed on Prowl.

"You know him better than I. I am sure it would depend on why I would do such a thing. Jazz is not blindly loyal and neither am I. Prime knows this. It keeps him from going the way of too many others."

Starscream nodded once and settled his head back on Prowl's chest, stroking absently. "What do you want, for the future of Cybertronians? If you could choose how to end this."

"A government that is constrained in its ability to hoard wealth. One that is required to ensure that every mecha has the minimums required to exist: energon, shelter, basic maintenance, and an opportunity to perform a useful function, preferably one they are well suited for. For any government to last, it must take care of the people. Very strong controls on the creation of new mecha, even kindled ones, so there is not such extreme overpopulation again. Do you want the full report?" Prowl looked down at him, still stroking his back as his engine purred softly at the stroking of his chest.

"I'd like to read it," Starscream said. "Do you know what you would do differently from Prime?"

"I will download it to a datapad for you when I return to my office," Prowl promised. "We differ on population controls, mine are far stricter, though I did win the most important one to have free energon laced with additives to prevent kindling in those that can not afford to fuel themselves. I also won most of the controls on corporate and indentured servant sparking controls. He's not happy with the government owning all energon production intended to produce more than six cubes an orn to prevent it from falling under the control of those who are focused on profit more than the citizens, though with the stricture to sell it at no more than a 10% profit he's agreed to it. Our greatest differences lie in the legal system. I am far more willing to use reprogramming, reformatting and execution for those that prove unable to function in society."

Starscream nodded again. He liked it, and he suspected he would like the rest of the plan when he read it. "Were the processors worth it, then? Worth living?"

Prowl was very still for a long moment, then he slowly nodded. "Most orns, yes."

That Prowl was using their native time unit in private instead of the human equivalent that Prime insisted on was not lost on the Seeker. "Maybe I can increase that number," Starscream hummed, lifting his head for a slow kiss. As their glossas danced together, he slowly shifted his weight, moving into a sit, curled over Prowl, nudging their pelvises teasingly together. "We still have most of an orn..."

Prowl simply groaned as his engine revved and he rocked against his lover in reply.

* * *

Starscream was relaxing after a wonderfully intense dual overload from Prowl's spike in his valve and hand on his spike when he felt the Praxian's engine growl unhappily. A prompt came up on his HUD asking if he wanted to listen in on the conversation with Bluestreak.

He accepted, and winced at the sudden anxious rambling that filled his processor.

::Bluestreak,:: Prowl deep voice held absolute calm and control and silenced the rambling without so much as a fearful whimper from the other side. ::What happened?::

::Cameras are down and Red Alert is freaked out and won't open the door, not even for Ratchet or me or Inferno or anyone. He's....::

::I will be there in two kliks. Is Ratchet at the security room door?::

::Yes, sir. He's here and....::

::Then please stay out of his way. I will get Red Alert out,:: Prowl promised calmly, the way a confident leader should, then closed the connection and pinged Ratchet.

::Yes, he's glitching. Get your aft down here before I go in,:: the surly medic snapped.

::Two kliks,:: Prowl informed him, then closed the connection and focused on his lover. "My apologies. I must deal with an issue in the security center. This may take some time."

"Go on," Starscream said, rolling off him and settling on the berth with a luxurious stretch and a suggestive curl of his mouth. "I'll be waiting." 

Prowl shifted, pulling a cloth from his subspace to wipe away the worst of the evidence of their activities as he stood. With quick efficiency he made himself presentable, leaned over to kiss his lover and stepped back to do a bit of a turn-around. "Presentable enough?"

"Presentable enough for a wipe-down," Starscream told him.

With a nod and one more longing look at the spy's frame Prowl left and Starscream smirked, settling down. He hadn't intended for the sabotage of the security systems to interrupt such a pleasant orn, but he was happy to see the panic it was creating in the Autobots. _Especially_ their glitchy security director.

He wished he'd already gotten Prowl's government outline, it would have been an interesting way to pass the time. Slowly a smile curled over his featured and he logged into Teletraan I. A quick query produced a collection of files under "Prowl's governmental model" and he settled back to reading.

He enjoyed the reading, thoroughly. It was of a class and refinement that he expected from Soundwave, and the nagging idea of a third faction simply wouldn't leave him alone. Their war had turned into something more like a sibling rivalry between the Prime and Megatron. 

A sibling rivalry with guns and a lot of collateral damage. 

The proposal he was reading wasn't _just_ Prowl's work, Starscream began to realize. The mech was definitely the architect, designer, and maintainer, but he could see input from the others. There were extensive notes about where each idea and proposal had come from, annotations, a full reference section. 

At the end of the work was a section that was almost just as long, filled with ideas that the Autobots had come across that they liked, and ones they hadn't. Most of the latter were from Jazz, though almost as many were from Prowl. All were annotated with why. In detail. Prowl's version of ranting.

It was a solid design. Add in Soundwave's input, get those two processors working on the same page... Starscream rubbed his hand over his mouth thoughtfully. No matter what, he would choose Megatron over the Prime. But there were options he would choose over Megatron, easily.

He was still mulling over it when the door opened nearly a joor later and a perfectly poised Second in Command Prowl stepped inside. When the door closed, the change to wrung-out was rather visceral. The mech was mentally exhausted.

Starscream tilted his head and lifted one corner of his mouth in a sympathetic offering as he stood, gliding over. "How is Red Alert?"

"Recovering," he let out a long vent of air. "He should be fine when Ratchet finishes the reboot process."

"Mm." Starscream lifted one hand and ran the back down the edge of Prowl's helm. He felt the thrill once more at how submissively happy the mech was to lean into the touch, not just physically, but even Prowl's field was compliantly content. "And the security systems?"

"Being repaired. Jazz is hunting down the virus," Prowl finally relaxed fully, his optics dimming at simply being close to his lover. "Our time is our own again."

"Good," Starscream said, and touched their helms together. "Most important question. How are _you?_ "

"I am fine," Prowl promised. "I would rather not think about work for a while." He slid his arms around Mirage and drew him close. "There are better things to pay attention to at the moment," he leaned in for a kiss.

Starscream granted it. "Come lay down," he purred. "I know an excellent way to help you relax."

"I'm sure," Prowl purred with a flicker of eagerness as he followed his lover to the berth and laid down, once more on his back and willingly so.

Starscream took a moment to enjoy the view, strolling up near Prowl's head, trailing his fingers up the Praxian's frame as he did. "You do look good like that," he said with a deep rumble. "Extremely so. I have been missing out."

Prowl simply smiled at him, a small expression, but one full of acceptance of the compliment and recognition for what it was.

Starscream smiled back, moved his fingers up to Prowl's mouth and traced the curve of his lip, then moved down his jaw, his neck, to trace along his collar. The other hand moved to his pelvis and he carefully slid onto the berth, and this time, climbed between Prowl's legs instead of moving into a straddle. It was enough to make Prowl's vents briefly stall before he shifted to spread his legs further apart for his lover. The tension and unease in his field mingled with anticipation as he watched his lover.

Starscream cocked his head at that reaction, narrowed his optics as he regarded the Praxian, and trailed both hands the rest of the way down to his pelvis. He skimmed over the spike cover and settled his fingers between Prowl's legs, rubbing in small circles. "This is a _very_ good way to relax," he purred. The valve cover was warm against his fingers, and it only took a few passes before it slid out of the way. Starscream's fingers finished another full circle, and then paused, optics moving down as he felt more carefully. Another slagging _seal_. "You haven't found anyone worthy of breaking this," he said, noting that the processors were very, _very_ confused. Something about a seal on a disgraced noble was _wrong_.

"No one's even wanted to," Prowl muttered before the embarrassment in his field smoothed out. "I never was very active, even as a racer."

"That world doesn't exist anymore," Starscream said, and let the optics dim with the true sadness this frame felt for that long-denied fact for a moment before he looked back up with a teasing stroke. "Would you like this broken?"

"Yes," Prowl's pale blue optics met his. Despite the nerves and anticipating pain, there was no question the answer was correct. "Will you?" he asked softly.

"Absolutely," Starscream purred, and moved up for a kiss as he carefully felt at the material. "I don't have anything to soften it with. Heat can help, and oral lubricant."

There was a flush across Prowl's field as he moaned into the kiss. "I had hopes...." he murmured before pulling a small tube from his subspace.

Starscream pushed down the _massive_ surge of relief that this would be easier than he'd just been expecting, because he couldn't exactly back out now. That would ruin, well, everything. He accepted the vial, smiling at his lover. "You do think of everything," he said, and stroked the outside of the valve. "Though the offer of the oral lubricant still stands." 

...What? 

_What?_

Where the Pit had _that_ come from? He'd only done that for mecha that he--

Ugh. Starscream deleted the entire thought train, focusing back on Prowl who cupped his cheek with on hand and drew him down for a soft, desire-filled kiss.

"I would very much like that," Prowl purred, his field warm with the sensations of being cared for rather than the victory Starscream was expecting to teek.

"Good," Starscream purred back to him as he pulled back and moved down Prowl's frame, pressing his lips to the metal and teasing at seams the entire way down to Prowl's little whimpers and moans. "Because I..." He x-vented against the seal and was rewarded by a near-keen of pleasure as he opened the vial. "Would also..." He had some of the salve on his fingertips as his glossa flicked out. "Enjoy that..." A harder lick, a swirl. " _Very_ much." He brought his fingers up to massage the mild solvent in, pleased that the Praxian at least seemed to appreciate his efforts.

Those efforts also quickly washed away all the uneasiness Prowl had been feeling until he relaxed into the attention, his hips rocking lightly into it as his moans encouraged more.

Starscream leaned back in once the seal was entirely coated, his glossa pressing back in and swirling. The seal felt strange--he'd never done this on one before--and it didn't taste nearly as good as an eager, lubricated valve, but it wasn't bad. The salve had almost no flavor and while it made his glossa tingle, it was made to react with the seal's material specifically. Starscream spent a few moments as he licked imagining the amusing image of Prowl asking Ratchet for the salve, before he pressed a kiss and circled the edge. He could already feel the seal dissolving and the glue that held it in place weakening. He was fairly sure it was going to numb some of the sensors too, so when the last of it was torn away it wouldn't hurt like Mirage's had.

He felt the charge growing high enough to begin licking at his glossa and faceplates while Prowl gripped the berth to keep from grabbing the helm between his legs. Starscream smirked to himself. He always _had_ been good at this, the very few times he'd deigned to do it. He added a hum through his vocalizer to press in with a gentle vibration. "How's it feeling in there?" he asked softly, his lips brushing against Prowl as he spoke.

"Slick," he gasped into a low moan. "Empty."

"I know how to fix one of those," Starscream said with a grin as he lifted his head up, one hand going down to his pelvis to stroke his spike into a quick extension. His engine gave an eager rev as he moved up Prowl's frame to claim a heated kiss. "You should relax," he purred, lining himself up, and then with another deep kiss, as their glossas swirled around, shoved in, breaking through the seal and not stopping until he was fully seated inside. He felt Prowl stiffen, knew it was in pain, but in the next moment Prowl was relaxing and gave an experimental squeeze of his valve.

"Theeere we go," Starscream purred, taking short, quick kisses until they began to be returned and smiling down at his lover. He shifted carefully up onto his knees, pushing Prowl's thighs open and back. "Just let me know when I can move." 

"Go ahead," Prowl let out a long vent he hadn't realized he'd held even past the pain's fading. "I'm ready."

"And so eager to please," Starscream purred as he pulled back, staying focused on Prowl's optics the entire time before he pushed back in, slow and even. Just because he personally found valves to be more powerful didn't mean that he was unaware that most mecha saw it the other way around, and he was happy to exploit that fact. Especially now. "You're doing well."

The pale blue light flickered as Prowl moaned, his field bright with what he was experiencing and his absolute willingness to give his lover control. Starscream hummed deeply in approval and pleasure as he rocked. He was content to take this slowly, savor the moment of taking away the Second in Command of the Autobot's seal, having him splayed out so indecently beneath him. It was a _rush_. One he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. 

He kept his movements careful and even, pressing in for kisses against the parted, panting mouth the way Mirage would with a lower ranked lover in his care. Only Mirage never would have taken _this_ lover. Prowl was even less appropriate than the spy had realized, and it brought Starscream no small amount of joy to think of the assassin getting some of the payback that he was due. He'd ruined countless mecha, it was just about time someone focused on ruining him a little bit. 

And _what_ a pleasant way to do that. Prowl's moans were absolutely decadent in their surrender to the smaller frame, his hands worked for Starscream's pleasure instead of his own, his valve spasmed erratically as he got used to the new piece. It felt utterly _amazing_. If Prowl was as quick a study in this as he must be in other things, like martial arts, Starscream would miss having him tend to his pleasure when he got his own frame back.

He moaned deeply at the thought of having the Autobot SIC under him, kneeling before him, willing, open and intent on serving him in his own frame. To feel and fill this valve with the larger spike that he had as a Seeker.

A deep moan and slight buck of Prowl's hips drew Starscream back to the moment and he smiled between a few more kisses. This time Prowl would overload first, and it would be a screaming one loud enough to be heard several rooms away. No one on board would not know what they were doing and just how skilled he was in the berth.

And _how_ the gossip would fly. 

It was already _the_ topic of the Ark what they did in Prowl's office (and occasionally elsewhere), but this was going to push it off the charts. It was likely the talk of the Nemesis too. Definitely the talk of anyone who knew who was in Mirage's frame right now, though that was a limited number. 

Starscream sped up, just for a pair of quick thrusts, before he slowed right back down, grinning at the choked off moan that it pulled from Prowl. Another slow klik, another set of quick thrusts, then slow strokes until Prowl whimpered and grabbed at him, his optics whiting out. Starscream revved his engines, braced, and _slammed_ forward, pounding into the Praxian frame.

It was barely three hard thrusts before Prowl _screamed_ as his engine roared, redlined, while his valve clamped down around the thickness inside it. That was all Starscream could manage to hang on for as the _powerful_ overload pulled him over the edge with his own cry, shooting the first transfluid this valve had ever felt deep into it, scalding hot and full of charge.

Almost immediately Prowl stiffened and roared with a second overload crashing through him before the first had even faded. His valve spasmed as his fingers dug into Starscream's back while his field slammed into Starscream with all that energy, trying to share it.

Mirage's frame soaked it up eagerly, shaking as it sizzled through the lines and limbs, holding onto Prowl with a grip that wasn't entirely conscious. Mirage's voice joined Prowl's again, sharp and ecstatic, until both cries were choked into silence as they slumped together. 

"That," Starscream panted, "Was amazing."

"It was," Prowl mumbled, more than willing to be still with his armor fluffed out and fans on high while the heat and charge gradually dissipated. "Thank you."

"You earned it," Starscream purred into a nuzzle as he settled there, claiming his take by staying right where he was, lodged inside. He just wished he had his wings to flare out in display.

He let their frames cool for a while in comfortable silence, petting the tactician and listening to his systems resettling, though Prowl never once tried to make Starscream pull out. "If you aren't native Praxian, why take that frametype?" he asked. "Was it the experiment's design?"

"No, Crucible was a Hive City frame. Praxus was as far away from them and politics as I could find to go when I left," Prowl said quietly. "I knew no one would search for him in a Praxian frame if they ever looked."

Starscream nodded slowly. He knew _I escaped_ when he heard it, and decided the sensitive thing to do would be not push the topic right at this moment. "So no real affinity for Praxus or Praxians," he said.

"No more than any city I grew fond of. It was a good existence while it lasted," Prowl answered truthfully. "I integrated well enough that anyone who may have suspected I wasn't a native never said anything. I liked it, but it wasn't my favorite existence."

Starscream lifted his head up to look down at him. "What was?" he asked, voice light and curious, as he crushed down on the irritatingly hopeful twitch in his spark.

"Flashdrive, the racer," Prowl had a slightly nostalgic smile on his face. "I was independent, free, and while not having wings still got to me often, it was the first time, the only time, I could be what I wanted to be."

Starscream nodded and lay his head back down. "It's too bad we can't get you into a Seeker frame," he said.

"Seeker?" Prowl repeated, his doorwings twitching curiously. "Where did that idea come from?"

"You're a _flier_ ," Starscream said. "No matter what frame you're in, you always will be. And Seekers are the best of the flight frames."

Prowl chuckled. "That they are. Even if almost all are Decepticons they are the finest fliers. Though I can't imagine Starscream or the Autobots in general taking it well if I did become one."

There was real respect for Seekers there, Starscream was pleased to note. "You never know," he hummed. "The Autobots have taken in stranger things that that." And then, because resisting his own curiosity had never been one of Starscream's strengths, even when it landed him in serious trouble, "Why do you think Starscream keeps his Seekers with Megatron?"

"Pride and not having a viable way out," Prowl sighed. "Early on Megatron was extremely charismatic and his path _sounded_ good if you did not listen very, very carefully. Then Vos was destroyed by Tyger Pax's forces, which made allying with Prime unthinkable, even if he'd realized what Megatron really intended by then. Like most, I do not believe they see defecting as an option, so staying where they are and fighting is what they do."

 _Pride?_ Starscream thought to himself. The tactician thought he was too _prideful_ to leave Megatron? He scowled, head tucked where Prowl couldn't see. "Makes sense," he said out loud, and was content to stay quiet and enjoy the warm frame after that. Prowl seemed just as content, the powerful pursuit engine purring softly.


	3. Building Ties

When Starscream's shift in Prowl's office came to an end, it was the last shift of his light duty sentence. Jazz had been to the Nemesis and come back with next to nothing and was now there again. Starscream knew he'd be sent in as soon as his commander came back if he didn't manage another reason to be on light duty in a hurry.

"Do you have plans for the evening?" Prowl asked as Starscream stood.

"I have a feeling I'm about to," Starscream chuckled as he walked around to Prowl's desk, leaning teasingly forward.

"I was rather hoping you would enjoy a game of Sovereign and discussing any ideas you have from reading the government outline," Prowl purred, his optics roving over the fine frame and making no effort to hide the desire he felt for it.

Starscream took a moment to simply _preen_ at the attention before giving the request some thought. "I would enjoy that," he finally said, as he stood up more fully, stretching his arms over his head and letting the armor cascade and resettle through a rather explicit stretching sequence. He was rewarded by a deep rev of Prowl's engine and a quiver of desire across his field. He had the mech hooked and Prowl was making no effort to unhook himself.

It was perfect.

"Coming?" Starscream purred as he turned away, beckoning with a single finger over his shoulder. He heard Prowl stand and follow like the love struck turbo-puppy he currently was, only to have the Praxian come even with him as they left the officers' offices section for the more populated areas housing the command deck. Their walk together earned more than a few looks and a couple thumbs up, while Bumblebee took one look and gave a cheerful yell before running back the way he'd come very eagerly.

Autobots were very, very strange, Starscream sighed to himself. Every fragging pair was cause for gossip and speculation and a lot of suggestive hand motions accompanied by excessive winking. And they were always so fragging _happy_ about it. At least Decepticons knew enough not to stare or comment. Or _speculate_. At least, not until they were behind closed doors. None of this chattering in hallways nonsense. 

They reached the rec room and Prowl set up the holographic playing board while Starscream sipped a cube of energon and watched through darkened, intense optics, making sure that Prowl _felt_ his gaze every nanoklik. When he'd finished, he gestured towards the board in open invitation for Starscream to choose his side. Starscream took the offense and made his move first.

"He won the betting pool over when we would acknowledge our relationship in public," Prowl said casually as he made his move without seeming to think about it.

"Ah, so _that's_ what that was," Starscream said as he examined the piece with some suspicion. It looked like an amateurish defense, but he knew this mech was far better than that, and it made him wary of traps later down the line. He moved and leaned back, letting a smile play over his mouth as he looked at Prowl. "Too bad I know you wouldn't have rigged the results for a cut."

"Betting is only entertaining when it is a challenge," Prowl shrugged a doorwing and made his next move just as quickly. "Since my income already well exceeds my needs and wants, there is little for me to gain. It's entertaining for the troops so it is permitted so long as it does not get out of hand."

Starscream's first response--that betting was only fun when you _won_ \--hit a filter of things that Mirage would never say and was regretfully discarded. "I liked your plan," he said, by way of subject change to Prowl's government designs. "I don't know why I hadn't read it before." And he didn't even need to lie to say that, Mirage really _hadn't_ read it, even though it was a public file for all Autobots. 

"While it is recommended reading for all Autobots, not many have," Prowl admitted with a touch of regret, though out here Starscream was treated to just how muted Prowl kept both verbal and frame displays. "What did you approve of the most?"

"The population control aspects," Starscream said with a touch of a smirk at the surprised look he got. "It wouldn't do to just let everyone breed like crazy if we ever do get a planet back. But I also liked the framework design, balancing the Prime's authority so efficiently." 

"The Senate did far more damage, though my primary focus is to make it far more difficult for any one mech or group to become corrupt and powerful enough to create poverty again," Prowl said as he continued to move with casual ease. "Of course, to prevent the poor from becoming poorer, it is important to prevent the events that are most likely to destroy what little financial stability they have. I saw many mecha that were just making it never recover from kindling. Their creations never had a chance."

Starscream nodded slowly. He'd seen it too, but Mirage certainly hadn't, so there was little to add to that. "I worry on how to prevent another Senate from corrupting the way ours did. Is that the reasoning behind the salary caps and term limits?"

"As well as having powers divided between six sectors of government," Prowl nodded with a small smile. "Nothing can prevent corruption, not in a large group. However by spreading the power out and preventing anyone or any small group from gaining so much wealth they can buy enough votes to control the government it does dramatically reduce the damage corruption can do. That is also the reasoning behind the government owning the bulk of energon production and land. Those who wish more than the basic can work and spend for it, but if the government controls the resources needed for all to have the basics they are not beholden to anyone for them. The cap on what is charged makes corruption difficult as well, since there is little money in it."

Starscream hummed. "What of a contingency plan, for when corruption _does_ arise, as it inevitably will? Giving the power back into a voting populace to oust any politician, given a sufficient number of offenses or complaints? Majority win only."

"Among other things. Every division has the authority to call into question the 'good intentions' of every other division, or member thereof, including their own. That can lead to abuse, but if someone abuses the system, they will soon find themselves on the receiving end of it. Popular vote will help, but not all the divisions are a popular vote. The Prime, as the highest ranking priest, is selected by them, just as each division is largely independent in ranking and promoting or demoting their own, so long as they follow the rules."

Starscream had to pause for a moment to examine the board, having exchanged three moves as Prowl spoke, and now needing time to think about his opponent's strategy. "It is a well designed system," he murmured, selecting a piece and placing it carefully. "Similar to some of Soundwave's work." 

Prowl perked up sharply and pale blue optics focused on him, but rather than suspicious, Prowl teeked as excited, eager. "Soundwave has made plans for post-war government?"

"Oh yes," Starscream said. "Stumbled on them while trying to find plans for a weapon the Decepticons were building." And he could say that completely truthfully. "They weren't the target I was looking for and I shouldn't have spent any time reading, but I had some spare kliks so I looked over the basics. Surprisingly, it does not make room for a dictator. He is more in favor of surveillance on private citizens, as one of the biggest differences."

Prowl gave a very small chuckle. "I am not at all surprised. There's a huge section from Red Alert on that. Some I agree with. Most is far overboard. If the people have what they need, they'll be content enough not to revolt."

"If people do not revolt, they should not fear private, controlled surveillance," Starscream pointed out as he frowned at his pieces that were starting to get worked into a catch-all trap. He needed a different strategy. It would take a few more sacrifices, but the riskier, less-organized approach might buy him a little more time. 

"If the government is doing its job and not corrupt it does not need to know what law abiding citizens are doing," Prowl countered a bit sharply, but with passion rather than refusal to listen. "Broad surveillance is about power and control, not maintaining law or protecting citizens."

"The point isn't to catch _law_ abiding citizens," Starscream said with an easy shrug. "What if that surveillance catches one, just _one_ , case of sparkling abuse in time to get it out of the home? Is it worth the violated privacy that the vast majority of citizens would never be aware of?"

Prowl's engine gave an angry growl at the subject, but his field was not angry, it was sick and twisted with the difference between his emotional response and his intellectual one. "No. Mass violation of rights is begging for another revolt. Systems are in place. So long as the system remains reasonably corruption-free, there are no repeat offenders."

"Mmm..." Starscream tapped his fingers on the table. "What kind of parameters go into an algorithm to decide when the risk of revolt is too great?"

"Number of mecha requiring government assistance, voter turnout, rate of violent crimes, rate of downward shifting in economic status, number of weapons confiscated or seen, stated levels of dissatisfaction with the government," Prowl spelled out the major subjects. "By the time the index reaches 12% actions must be taken to alter the conditions causing dissatisfaction. By every study and personal experience I have, very few mecha will dissent if they have sufficient energon, shelter, medical care, the potential to be useful and an opportunity to advance. The first three are the most critical. Hungry, homeless and hurting masses are what created the environment where this war could begin."

"There will _always_ be those who simply enjoy hurting, or have no real capacity for sympathy or decency," Starscream said. "Though pacification with resources can go a long way, and helps only the worst to stand out."

"The legal code is set up to focus on those mecha who cannot find an acceptable outlet for their inclinations," Prowl pointed out as he made another play. "They get the fast track to reprogramming, reformatting and eventually execution. Most criminals only need an opportunity to do something useful with their skills or drive. If I've worked out how to keep Jazz, myself and the twins from causing trouble, there are very few that can not have their negative energy channeled into something productive."

"What of Decepticons, in this new world?" Starscream asked, lifting his optics. "Megatron? Starscream? I know you see potential in Soundwave." 

"There is very little chance that any of the officers will surrender," Prowl said quietly. "However, the process for them is the same as the lower ranks. Those who are willing to adapt to a peaceful society will be given assistance in the form of education, skill assessment and placement in a position where they should find satisfaction in. Those who are unwilling ... what are the odds any of those mecha surrender?"

"Megatron, certainly none," Starscream said. "The war won't be over until either him or Prime is dead. Or both," he shrugged. "Soundwave is sensible. Starscream's a coward who will do _anything_ to stay alive. They'll lay down their arms if Megatron is gone." 

"And of the others, the Combaticons, the Stunticons, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Shockwave?" Prowl asked, genuinely interested, but Starscream could clearly see that a huge chunk of his processor power had gone to rapid planning, and from some of the looks and groans around the room, the other Autobots knew it too.

"Shockwave is a lost cause for loyalty," Starscream snorted. "But set him up in a laboratory and throw enough scrap at him and he'll be content. Combaticons are insane. Break the gestalt bond of the Stunticons and you might get some of them, but they were created for violence and very little else of substance went into them. Skywarp and Thundercracker..." Starscream rolled a piece in his fingers, looking at it. "I don't know. They're more loyal to each other than Megatron, but they're committed to Starscream. Astrotrain is an unrepentant brute who takes glee from bullying weaker mecha, he'd be a decent enough cop shuttle. Plenty of the others would submit well enough but need screening and resocializing." 

"Pity. Onslaught used to be an amazing tactician," Prowl sounded almost fond of him, in an annoyed sort of way. "Though Vortex definitely made the exceedingly short list of mecha even Prime agreed to let Jazz reformat immediately." A rather evil, if very well concealed smile crossed Prowl's features. " _That_ was a truly amazing argument."

Starscream quickly scanned Mirage's memories for any tags that might indicate having heard about such a conversation and found nothing. He set his piece down, steepled his index fingers together, and touched them to his lower lip. "Anyone else interesting on that list?" he asked in a low, curious purr.

"Overlord and Motormaster," Prowl answered. "It's a very short list, and none of them are likely to surrender in my estimation."

"No Starscream," the Seeker murmured, almost to himself as he gazed at the board, trying to figure out Prowl's game. He hadn't expected to hear his designation, but it was nice, all the same. "So if I win through less honorable means..." He pushed his field forward with a smirk. "Does it still count?" 

"You must play within the rules of the game in this," Prowl motioned to the holo board between them before moving a piece. "I am well aware you are not accustomed to such restrictions. Starscream, in the unlikely event he surrenders, does not fit the profile of being incapable of functioning in a peaceful society. So no, he is not on the list. He has several ways to focus his energy should he choose to do so."

"Flying, science," Starscream said, brightening as they switched over to one of his favorite subjects, running his pede up Prowl's leg. He could feel his opponent respond. Prowl's flied flushed, caressing his affectionately.

It didn't do anything to distract Prowl's ability to play and carry on a conversation, annoyingly.

"Politics as well. He has the processors for it," Prowl agreed as his engine gave a slight purr. "Though I would definitely prefer him in the sciences. I've read some of his early work on quantum fluctuation and theoretical molecular transitioning. He had a brilliant processor for it. With luck he still would."

"I think there's a good chance of it," Starscream said, adding definite _intent_ into his field until a hand on his shoulder startled him into dropping his piece entirely as he jumped and whirled, finding himself staring right at Jazz. 

"Uh..." Jazz said, looking just as startled as Starscream felt. He looked past him to Prowl with a lifted optic ridge. "Didn't mean ta startle ya..." 

"...You didn't," Starscream said huffily as he internally cursed the grounder frame and its complete sensor _blindness_ to anything behind. He cleared out his vocalizer and lifted his chin. "I wanted to see if you were expecting a startle-response."

"Ya got me then," Jazz gave his agent the out gracefully, but Starscream had no doubt that Jazz had _chosen_ to be kind to him. "I heard there was somethin' interesting down here."

"Given Mirage and I are the subject of the year, I suppose this qualifies as interesting," Prowl said blandly.

Jazz gave Starscream a look, a hidden smirk that let his Second know he was happy for him. "Can I update ya file now, 'Raj?" 

Starscream smiled and turned to look at Prowl. "Yes," he said. "You may update my file."

The Praxian's field fluttered against his, warm and very happy, but it was the small flutter of the doorwings that caught Jazz's attention. It also made him frown. ::Raj, I know you hate Earth and all, but if you hurt him, I will have to break you, disruptor or no.::

::I'm not going to hurt him, Jazz,:: Starscream said, rolling his optics, and even with a seeming threat like that these processors were not concerned about _actual_ physical harm the way he would tend to be. ::I didn't just jump into this, no matter what it looks like. If it ends it will be a mutual parting with as little hurt as we can manage, no matter the reason. It's in the contract,:: he added. ::Calm negotiations and reasonable discussion.::

Jazz relaxed and nodded a bit, flashed Prowl a smile and wandered off, though no one was fooled that he wasn't keeping his attention on them.

"It's your move," Prowl said calmly.

Starscream hummed and sat back down, examining the pieces for a klik before moving. He desperately wished for his own processors right now, just to see how they would hold out against the tactician. "If Jazz is back this soon, he probably didn't find that thing," he murmured.

"I know," Prowl said with only the faintest of grumbles. "Though it also means that he wasn't compromised. It will make it easier for you to get in when Ratchet clears you."

"Which should be any day now," Starscream said, scowling as Prowl took another one of the crucial pieces in his offense. "Hopefully Megatron won't have enough time to actually use it before then."

"There is less than a 3.8% probability that he will take action before then," Prowl tried to assure him. "While the missions have not brought back what I wanted, it has brought back significant intel of use."

Starscream lifted his optics. "Are we meeting soon to go over it?"

"Once you are cleared by Ratchet," Prowl nodded with a small motion of his doorwings. "Several missions are waiting for you."

Starscream nodded his understanding and focused back in on the game, thoughts going back to the government and policy design work. "How hard was it to get Prime to agree to lace all the subsistence-level energon with an anti-kindling drug?" he asked curiously.

"Logic used for blunt force trauma," Prowl almost chuckled, clearly fond of that particular win.

Starscream grinned at him, enjoying that reaction. "So," he said, optics tracking the movement of Prowl's pieces, "Why not have _all_ of the energon supplies laced, except for a controlled amount that is only available to those who qualify and apply for it through the state?"

"What criteria should be used?" Prowl asked evenly, though his field warned it wouldn't be an easy sale.

"Demonstrated financial stability, for starters," Starscream said. "A crime-free history, at least for a specific time period. The ability to care for a sparkling and meet its medical needs without going bankrupt."

"Medical care is provided by the state," Prowl reminded him. "How would one judge the ability to care for a sparkling?"

"By deciding whether or not the applicant has demonstrated the ability to not be _completely_ dysfunctional," Starscream said with a shrug. "The application would be little more than affirming that a prospective creator is capable of remembering important engagements, stay employed, and not be so careless as to endanger a creation's life."

Prowl considered the mech across for him for a long moment while he absently cycled a piece through his fingers. It dragged on for nearly a full klik. "Are you attempting to argue that the majority of mecha who have the funds to create under the system outlined would not be able to raise a well-socialized and functional creation?"

"Not at all," Starscream said. 

"While I approve of such a system in theory, the potential for abuse is even greater than the one we did away with," Prowl said cautiously. "How would you prevent those doing the checking from using it to hurt those they do not like, or look the other way for a friend?"

"The same way you prevent _any_ judge from abusing the system, and any politician from becoming corrupt," Starscream said. "Which is to say, you don't. It isn't possible to create a corruption-free environment, but there are standards in place to hold those elected to the position to their duty as much as possible. Answer me this, how do you plan to prevent those who rule in criminal cases from using their power to hurt those they do not like, or lessening the punishment for a friend?"

"Public records, periodic outside review of practices and an appeals process are the primary methods," Prowl answered much more easily.

"So why not apply those same standards to creating?" Starscream asked, barely noticing Prowl's move take out a chunk of his remaining forces. "A system like that would barely be used in the beginning, but our kind's biggest problem, if you could call it that, is that our technology has advanced to such a point that we can stay alive for a very, very long time. Add to that that the survivors, _if_ we do manage to get to a point of rebuilding, are those who survived this war, and will pass on that same will and capability to live. Any who are still alive are _strong_ and will create more survivors. Only these survivors will, hopefully, be living in a time of peace and good resources. You see how that will add up a population quickly?"

"Yes," Prowl answered, and he made little real effort to hide that he probably had an even better idea of just how bad it could get than Starscream did. "It is not, however, a system Prime will ever accept. It may have to wait until after him."

"It will be easier to put in place when its usefulness is next to nothing," Starscream said with a shrug. "I have no doubt that your Prime would never allow it, but it's something to think about, and refine, for the future."

"I always am," Prowl said softly as tension crept into his frame. "Failing and function all in one."

Across the room Jazz perked up sharply, and he wasn't the only one.

" _Your_ Prime?" one of the red minibots scowled and stalked forward, apparently voted to give voice to the room. "Since when wasn't he _our_ Prime? I _knew_ you were a traitor!"

"Cliffjumper," Prowl glared at the minibot, and made not a bit of an impression as the small mech glared at Starscream.

Starscream gave the minibot a cold look to buy for time as he realized the slip-up. He'd been comfortable, almost forgotten about where he was. Slag. _Slag_. That could _not_ happen. 

"He is the Prime of the common mecha," he said simply, and even though the minibot was taller than him while he was sitting relaxed, he managed to give the impression of looking down on him. "Forgive me if I never managed to identify. An honorable thing to be, to be sure, and I will follow him until I deactivate, but he was never _my_ Prime the way he has been yours."

"He's _Prime!_ " Cliffjumper roared and made a lunge. Prowl moved before Starscream had even realized the attack was coming and suddenly Cliffjumper was flat on his back with a pede on his chest and one _very_ irate officer glaring down at him.

And _still_ the minibot didn't seem to have the sense to shut up and lay still, not even after Bumblebee had rushed over to grab Cliffjumper's wrists and pin them down and yelled at him to leave keep his vocalizer muted, matching volume with volume.

Starscream saved their game, closed the board up, and tucked it into his subspace as he stood. ::I think it would be best if I disappeared for a while,:: he commed Prowl, and at the sharp look he got, added, ::Not literally.::

::Your quarters, when I've dealt with this?:: Prowl said hopefully, though his scowl was firmly in place as he rattled off a couple charges, then threatened more.

::Yes,:: Starscream said, hesitated, then, ::I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rile that thing and make more work for you.::

::It happens,:: Prowl gave a small flick of a doorwing in thanks. ::He hates you for reasons still unexplained.::

Starscream nodded once, and then brought Prowl's face around to him to claim a short, sweet kiss, and left.

* * *

Starscream waited in Mirage's quarters, lounging on the berth and staring at the painting of the Towers. He needed to get out of here soon. This fragging Autobot processor was messing with him. He should not be relaxed enough around _Prowl_ to forget being undercover. At best, it was suicidal.

At worst ... he was absolutely sure it would make him _wish_ it had been suicidal. As creepy and utterly fragged in the processors as some Decepticons were, Starscream had absolutely no doubt that Jazz was just as bad. The difference between Jazz and Vortex was that Jazz knew how to turn the crazy off at will. Add that to what would be an inevitably _exceedingly_ pissed off Prowl and Starscream did not want to find out what happened to the mecha that were never found again.

Jazz returned most. Their frames at least. What happened to the others not even Soundwave would commit to discussing.

Before he could go any further into that dark path, the door opened.

"Mirage?" Prowl's voice was low, announcing himself before he stepped inside. It didn't matter that they were looking right at each other.

Starscream sat up straighter and held his arm out, asking Prowl to join him on the berth. "I'm here," he said.

Why did he feel _relief_ when Prowl quickly crossed the room to settle on the berth and snuggled against him, openly happy to be against him.

"That did not go quite as I planned," Prowl murmured.

"Not at all," Starscream agreed, arms tight around the tactician's frame. "I forget my capacity to create a fuss at times."

"It is easy to forget that he occasionally suits actions to words," Prowl grumbled. "It has been a while. I don't want you damaged."

"I _could_ blame you, you know," Starscream said, subharmonics indicating that he was teasing, but his overall tone haughty.

"Of course," Prowl accepted with an easy huff, his field cautiously playful. "It was my plan and it went poorly."

"No, I mean," Starscream rolled his optics with a fond flicker through his field. "You made me relax, in public. I _don't_ relax in public. Made me ... forget we're on this hideous planet, and we're talking about actual reconstruction instead of having a theoretical conversation. I miss..." _Vos_. "The Towers."

Prowl's frame relaxed with a long gust of air as he reached to stroke Starscream's back. "Even if it means incidents like that, I'm glad," he murmured, his field soft and warm, like that was the kindest, most endearing thing anyone had said to him. "I enjoyed talking about it with you, and it's good for the crew to hear that kind of talk."

"I've missed talking about it with anyone," Starscream said, gazing at the ceiling, imagining the sky beyond. It made his spark ache to think of. He wondered if his frame would be sky-crazed when he returned to it, whether Megatron was keeping it in medical stasis as promised, or just held chemically offline. "I'm glad I decided to try this." 

Prowl's smile reached his field. "As am I. I am also grateful that your missions have the lowest rate of risk."

Starscream rolled his optics. "And coming from you, that's romance."

"It's also a complement," Prowl teased him lightly. "And because I care."

"C'mere," Starscream said, nudging Prowl to sit up and turn around before he followed, pulling their game back out and setting it up between them on the berth. "I want to finish this game, and then I want to show you _exactly_ how well I take to losing," he said, all the while arousal and aggression licked at Prowl's field.

"I look forward to that," Prowl actually purred, the glint in his optics warning Starscream that he was about to face Prowl's full focus intending to trounce him as thoroughly as possible as quickly as possible.

* * *

Starscream cursed Megatron and Soundwave and Ravage anew as he crawled through the Nemesis's air ducts, having to use the disruptor sparingly because once he got close to where he was going, he'd need it at full strength. 

He was going somewhere he wouldn't go in his real frame, and now he had to take this one.

The creepy part: Mirage seemed to know the way better than he did.

He muttered and swore and kept expecting for his wings to get caught on the low ceiling before remembering that the spy was _slender_ and fit through these ducts easily once his armor was locked down around his protoform in a very uncomfortable but incredibly efficient size-reduction technique. He'd have to get Soundwave on that, because Mirage could get through spaces they'd never thought viable. 

Jazz had been to all the usual "haunts"--his description--aboard the Nemesis and found no sign of Shockwaves's spark switcher, so Starscream had been instructed to look in all of Mirage's specialized zones. 

Including Megatron's quarters.

He let the frame do what it wanted for the most part, following the memories when he focused on _Megatron's quarters_ , and before he knew it he was there. A grate where he could see inside the vast, luxurious space. He could hear, too, Megatron's moans, a higher pitched voice that was impossibly familiar. It was begging for this to stop.

Oh, _slag_. 

The disruptor came on and he quietly slid the grate aside, knowing somehow that Megatron never noticed when he did this, and slipped down into the chambers. Disgustingly large compared to what most had on the Nemesis--his trine fit into a third of this--but that wasn't his focus. 

His focus was the berth, on _his frame_ tied down, _his wings_ pressed into the solid surface in a disgraceful display that no Seeker would _ever_ offer to a grounder, screaming and begging. The frame was still drugged, that was easy to tell from the way the optics were darting and unfocused. Megatron was curled around him, Starscream could see his own face turned sideways from under the warlord's arm. 

He was going to _fragging_. _Kill_. _Megatron_.

Protocols Starscream didn't even realize the frame possessed slapped him fairly hard in the processors, forcing his focus to return to the mission.

_Find the weapon._

Ugh. 

Dutifully, he started glancing around the room, came upon a locked storage area and went over to it. A glance and a silent snarl at Megatron showed the megalomaniac to be happily rutting, paying no heed to the world, and Starscream had the door open in less than a klik, triggering it to open just far enough for a focused beam of light and a single optic to see in. 

There it was, right in the open. 

Mission protocols satisfied, he closed the door again. There was no hope of retrieving. At least, that was going to be his story. Too large to fit through the vents he'd just come in, unsuitably dangerous to shift exits halfway through a mission when it wasn't a matter of life and death. 

His focus shifted back to the berth, to the pool of energon beneath his hips. He was _bleeding_. The monster's spike was making him _bleed_. 

He could do it now, pull off a shot into Megatron's back, but there was no way of telling what the ensuing fight would do to his frame and it wasn't worth that risk. At least it was the spy in there and not him.

He'd have to know it, remember it, but at least his spark hadn't endured it. It would be like the memories of the spy he could access now. A stolen memory. Something from someone else.

Megatron had better have his frame in _perfect_ condition when he got it back.

Because he was going to _kill him_. 

Rage fritzed his vision, made him glitch, and the processors were insisting that he leave quickly, having already spent too much time in one spot. 

So it was back into the vent, the cover locked on, no sign that he'd ever been here. 

He wasn't far enough away when Megatron overloaded, and the roaring pleasure made him want to scream. It hurried his movements through the vents and out, intent on telling his handler where the weapon was. His processors weren't happy with leaving with so little, but he no longer cared. He needed to be _away_ from Megatron's voice.

That mech was _so_ going gray when he got his frame back.

* * *

Starscream disguised his frustration with Megatron as the frustration of not being able to retrieve the weapon he'd been sent to retrieve, but before he had any time to realistically worry about explaining himself, Optimus Prime called the roll out when Decepticons were reported to be hijacking an oil manufacturing plant. 

He got to see Prowl in battle form up close and personal, witness the mech's rapid-fire order of positions and assignments even while he was firing off shots himself. It was impressive, and he wasn't too jaded to admit it, at least in his own processors. Starscream was supposed to get around behind the Decepticons on the north side and work on taking out their energon cube storage from there. He had other plans. He knew their tactics like no Autobot could. There were better ways. That and he didn't really want to stop the cubes from going to the Nemesis.

He _did_ want to ruin Megatron's day, though, and that would be easy enough to do with Mirage's frame. He ignored the direct orders, vanished, and circled around on the west, getting a look at Megatron and Soundwave. His trine was flying overhead and he watched them bitterly for a few moments, wondering if they knew what was happening to his frame, before focusing back in on Megatron. 

A well-placed shot, and... 

Yes, _right_ in the back. Megatron roared and whirled, searching for the source of the shot. Starscream grinned at him in plain, invisible sight for a moment before slipping back away to keep taking pot shots. His riffle wasn't close to powerful enough to get through the warlord's ultra heavy armor, but it could irritate the _Pit_ out of him. With a _really_ good shot it could do some damage, take out an optic, break a finger, but nothing that would even slow the big brute down as he zeroed in on Prime and the classic center of every battle condensed.

That would mark the upcoming end to the battle--more of a skirmish, really--and Starscream waited and watched, doing all he dared to make sure the cubes made it safely into Decepticon hands before circling back to the Autobots after Megatron called the retreat and everyone gathered again. He shimmered back into visibility once he was among the rest.

"What happened?" Prowl demanded. Though his voice was cool and calm, those doorwings were decidedly _not happy_ , and it was focused squarely on Starscream. Jazz didn't look so pleased either.

"I saw a better opportunity for a more focused assault on Megatron," Starscream said, folding his arms over his chest and going to his lover, seduction and authority in the lines of his frame. "I made a judgment call."

The doorwings hiked up half a handspan and now _everyone_ was aware that Prowl was _not happy_. Even the dense red minibot looked surprised and uneasy.

Jazz pinged. ::Raj ... hint. That mech isn't your lover right now and he's as angry as I've seen him in vorns. Not a good time to be all nobly-like.::

"Because of your disobedience the Decepticons retrieved all the energon they had converted," Prowl's optics and field were cold. "Your assault on Megatron was neither authorized nor effective. It wasn't even _intelligent_. I expect better of you."

Well that was ... surprising. Starscream narrowed his optics at Prowl, shocked that the mech would confront him like this _in public._ He thought _he_ was the one with the power in this relationship. He glanced at Jazz, who was just staring, before looking back to Prowl. "I was out there, I had a better line of sight of my options, and the _better_ one was the one I chose."

Doorwings hitched higher and flared out. If _he'd_ been the one making that display, the mech on the receiving end was about to get their wings torn off. Prowl wasn't that violent, probably.

"You _failed at your mission_ ," Prowl's snarl was low and ominous. "You were not where you were supposed to be if Jazz needed backup. You were not where you would have seen Ravage attack Bumblebee. You were _not where I planned for you to be_. Such actions have cost lives before. We were _lucky_ this time. It is unacceptable for an officer to behave in such a manner."

Starscream stared at him. ::Prowl...::

"Autobots, transform and return home," Optimus Prime's voice interrupted whatever retaliation Prowl was going to unleash.

"I will have a punishment decided when we reach the Ark," Prowl said before turning away and transforming to take his place 

::Seriously Raj, you know better. You're one of only two mecha he can usually count on to be where he tells you to be,:: Jazz said quietly over the SpecOps channel. ::Most of us can't be that reliable.::

Starscream scowled and choked down on the desire to _really_ speak his mind, reminded himself who he was supposed to be right now, and sighed as he transformed for the drive home. At least Prowl didn't seem inclined to take it out on him physically, but they'd had an extremely good night together and he'd thought that would count for _something_. 

Apparently not. Though it was irritating to know that he was being held to different standards. ::I don't ever see him go off on everyone else who's out of place,:: he said.

::We're the only ones that get missions that don't involve "attack X, protect the flank, retreat" or such.:: The shrug in Jazz's voice was audible. ::I thought you understood that Prowl will never compromise his tactics or needs just because he's 'facing you now. What got into you anyway? You just don't do things like that.:: In that, Jazz was just as confused and upset as Prowl.

 _Ugh_ the Autobots were ridiculous. Though to be fair, he _had_ specifically acted to give the "other" side an advantage, so he supposed it was understandable. ::I just ... really thought that was my better option. Sometimes things look different once you get out there, you know that.::

::Yes, I do. I'm not the one you ignored, though. Trying to second-guess our Chief Tactical Officer on tactics just isn't a smart move. Take a page from the twins' playbook on this one. Take the punishment and let it go, because Prowl will for the most part. Being his lover, or even someone he genuinely likes, is really a disadvantage when you cross the line, not an advantage. He's weird that way.::

::So I'm learning,:: Starscream muttered, and drove the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

It had felt like not even all the washracks in the world would be able to get the sludge off of his frame, but after almost an entire local day locked up, Starscream finally felt clean and ready to return to his quarters. 

And _Prowl_.

He snarled to himself and vanished because the skittery looks he got from those he passed just made him _more_ annoyed than he had been. At least, before Prowl had given him his punishment detail of cleaning the sludge out of the recycling tanks. 

_By hand._

He only reappeared once he was back in his quarters, optics narrowed dangerously as he looked at Prowl reclining on the berth. The Praxian seemed to catch on to his mood quickly and sat up.

"I will leave if you do not wish me here," Prowl said simply.

That wasn't what Starscream had expected and his armor flicked in a mix of confusion and annoyance. "So why are you here in the first place?"

"I had hoped to spend a quiet joor with you," Prowl answered with his normal calm.

Starscream felt like he spent a lot of time staring at Prowl lately. "You had me clean out the _recycling tanks!_ What part of that leads to a quiet evening!"

Prowl twitched his doorwings slightly in confusion. "You ignored orders. You were punished. That punishment is now complete. What requires revisiting?"

 _Autobots_. 

Starscream shifted uneasily. "You're not going to ... yell, or..." _\--Hit me or shoot me or gouge my plating or rip off my arm--_ "...something."

"No," Prowl said simply, then gave a soft trill of reassurance. "The matter is settled. That was work. I would rather enjoy our downtime together, but if you need to understand something, if I was not clear, or you are not ready for my company, we will address that."

Starscream frowned at him. "You acted like we weren't anything."

"We cannot be on the battlefield, or in the tactical room. You know that," Prowl started to look concerned. "That is duty. _We_ are not."

"...All right," Starscream said slowly as he took a careful step forward. He'd been expecting ... yelling, and definitely a fight, and he was still kind of pissed about the humiliating punishment, but it probably wouldn't do to keep that up. 

And, he had to admit, this was actually probably a better way to do punishment. It didn't put an officer out of commission. 

An even x-vent and he walked over to the berth, frame swaying seductively. "You said a _quiet_ joor?"

Prowl's engine purred at the shift. "Perhaps not quiet, but together and not working."

"I think I'm going to make you work," Starscream said as he climbed up next to Prowl and very matter-of-factly removed the datapad from his hands, tossing it aside before leaning in for a nip against his mouth. " _Very_ hard."

Prowl shivered under him with a flare of excited desire. Strong white hands came up to stroke Starscream's lean frame, encouraging and submissive all at once. Coming off the absolute command that had been Prowl's stance in their last two interactions it was a fascinating contradiction. No Decepticon would act like that. Commanders _commanded_. Always.

The submission was a thrill, knowing what he did of this mech and how powerful he was. And maybe, Starscream thought, he could just get used to this.


	4. Dreaming Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy Megatron/Mirage non-con in this chapter.

Mirage roused, slowly and with great difficulty and no small amount of confusion as he tried to understand his HUD. While the glyphs were easy enough to read, they made no sense at all.

For starters, they were in Vosian. His were, should be, in High Cybertronian.

For another, they were warning him about equipment that ... he didn't _have_. There was joint strain coming from ... his back? His vision was onlining gradually, and once it had, it was abnormally focused on the ceiling, and the depth of the room around him. 

...The room he didn't recognize. Everything felt fuzzy. His processor felt ... _fuzzy_. He was trying to remember where he'd gone down, and he knew it had been a battle, and he kind of remembered the last moments, but he didn't have the sharp recording that he should. 

"Good of you to join me, Starscream," a low voice rumbled near him.

That voice generated a kind of panic in him that very little could.

But why was Megatron calling him Starscream? Though that would explain the Vosian.

That opened up an entirely new level of _what happened_ and he knew he groaned as his optics focused on Megatron. It didn't look right, the depth perception was all off, but it was coming up as functioning correctly. Those readings and slow, clumsy movements were all he could manage despite his building panic.

"Oh, shh, you've had a rough orn, haven't you Starscream," Megatron said, as he came into sight, towering over Mirage and leaning in, stroking the side of his helm, running his thumb over the vents. "You can relax now, I've got you."

Despite the terror in Mirage's spark, he did note that his frame, _Starscream's frame_ , didn't seem all that comfortable with this either. Though he wasn't getting more than a dim impression. What had happened?

He made another sound, but what should have come out as "Megatron" was mostly static. Yet it was enough for Mirage to begin tracking commands to see what impulses did what in this frame. He'd worry about what happened when he was in a less vulnerable position.

"What was that?" Megatron asked quietly, moving his weight onto the berth and coming over Mirage, swinging one leg over and looming above him. "You look _worried_ , Starscream. You've been wanting this for so long, don't worry, I've known."

Mirage knew his optics brightened, and now he knew they were red. It glowed off Megatron's gray frame in an eerie way. He gave a small thanks that this wasn't his frame, because what Megatron intended was obvious. Just as obvious was the frame's revulsion being nearly as strong as Mirage's.

That in and of itself, was useful intel. They had long assumed Megatron and Starscream to be lovers--if turbulent ones. Their public actions seemed indicative of similar games in the berthroom. 

"You've always been such a coy little thing, haven't you," Megatron was saying. "Playing your _games_ , flicking your _wings_ , don't worry, I haven't missed any of it. I know you must have thought me so blind to your attentions, but I plan on showing you just how much I have _appreciated_ all of it." He leaned in for a slow, gentle kiss.

The frame was revolted and so was Mirage, but there wasn't enough coordination to do anything about it. Sensory feedback told him the wings were vibrating against the berth, but he didn't know what it meant, other than that the frame _was not happy_. There were a lot of things going on that Mirage didn't understand. What he did understand was that Megatron was going to interface with this frame, and all Mirage could hope for was that he intended to stick to the physical. As horrifying as that was, to have his first time be with _this_ monster, it was far better than hardline or spark, both of which would give him away.

Megatron's field, sickeningly thick with arousal, crept over him, smothered him. It throbbed along him and Mirage knew he had to be able to teek the unhappiness. The _revulsion._ He shrank away from it and tried to turn his head away from the kiss, mouth drawn in a tight, straight line, but Megatron just grabbed his face and held him still, glossa running all over his lips as the larger mouth devoured more than kissed. 

Weight came pressing down on his hips and the second hand started caressing a wing, rubbing all over it.

It felt good even as the wing tried to pull away, just to press against the berth and not be able to get away. He _did not want_ , and worse, he knew Megatron knew it, and kept going. Seeming to enjoy the reaction.

Why did Starscream tolerate this? Was it really that well hidden until now? Surely after so long this couldn't be the first time, but Megatron's words indicated it was.

Either way, Mirage was grateful for the uncoordinated frame. He couldn't have gotten away even if he did have control, so at least he didn't have to risk being discovered. Megatron would have his fun, and eventually he'd allow Starscream to leave. The moment that happened Mirage could get away.

If he was in Starscream's frame, Starscream was almost certainly in his. That had the potential to be disastrous. Though with any luck, Starscream was having as difficult of a time in that frame as Mirage was in this. Nothing seemed to want to move the way he asked it to. So, so hazy. 

The groping hand moved lower, going down his side, thumb dragging along the cockpit. The weight on his hips felt crushing but he wasn't getting damage reports. He could feel ... pressure. Pinpointed pressure on his pelvis. 

" _Starscream,_ " Megatron moaned and ground against him and Mirage realized the pressure was the warlord's spike right as the hand moved between his legs, groping at the cover there. Large, thick fingers pushed and rubbed, enticing. "I know you want it, I'll make it good, open up for me like a good berthtoy."

To Mirage's renewed horror, the valve cover snapped open almost immediately. A physical response completely at odds with the processors and spark connected to it. What was between these two? Why would Starscream's frame respond like a well-trained pleasurebot when he felt like this? He tried to get something, _anything_ , from the processors, but actual processes and memories felt--out of step. Like he didn't _fit_ into the rhythm. Nothing he could sense suggested any kind of rewiring or virus causing the frame to respond like that, but it had felt like an automatic impulse. 

" _Oh_ Starscream," Megatron breathed, as a single finger prodded into him and felt clumsily around. The spike rubbing against his hip moved faster, felt longer. "So eager. So the rumors are true. How long have you wanted me to bend you over and give you a good pounding?" Megatron looked into his optics, hovering in a way that made the frame feel just this side of panicking. Two fingers pressed in, pushing and pulling with jerky, uneven motions.

It didn't feel that good, though Mirage was incredibly grateful that there was lubricant beginning to flow and the rub of fingers against lining was eased by it. He heard a low moan mixed with clicks of distress and belatedly realized it was coming from him, or rather Starscream's frame. He tried to settle into training, only to find that there wasn't any. His spark knew basics, but all that specialized knowledge, the ability to act like someone else, that was apparently all in his processors.

Why couldn't he access the processors he was connected to? He'd hacked mecha before. He knew how to access unwilling processors not his own. Why couldn't he when they were technically _his_ processors?

The mouth crushed back against his and Megatron shifted his weight, getting his knees in between Mirage's thighs and pushing them open, stretching to the point where Mirage knew the joints would be sore. It spread him wide open and the warlord's spike crushed against his valve, rubbing through the platelets but still not pushing in. He didn't seem inclined to waste his time, why the pause?

"You're usually so very _vocal_ ," Megatron rumbled with an amused flicker. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?" The hand pawed at him again, felt the lubricant. "I can tell you're enjoying yourself."

Mirage tried to say something, but could only manage more uncoordinated sounds. He wasn't sure how much of the horror was him and how much was the frame, but he was sure if Starscream was himself there would be screaming, clawing and threats that were absolutely meant. He could manage that even if he knew all the right reactions, which he didn't. He simply couldn't connect with the frame. It reminded him distantly of being sedated.

Megatron only waited a few moments before the hand lifted away with a displeased rumble and the fingers pressed into Mirage's mouth. "Would you like to taste?" he purred, and when Mirage tried and _tried_ to move and still couldn't, the fingers were swirled around the inside of his mouth while the giant chuckled. "I have been looking forward to this," he finally said, pulled the fingers out, and pressed his spike in. His entire frame shuddered with a low moan. "It'll be so good, I promise."

For Megatron, no doubt. For Mirage, the revulsion was unbelievable. He literally had no idea how bad it could be. The stretch of something _unwanted_ inside him was horrifying on a level he couldn't even comprehend.

There was _no way_ Megatron thought he was enjoying this, but the larger mech hunched over him, mouth going to a wing edge, crooning as he rolled his hips into Mirage. 

Maybe it would be better if the fragger would just _take_ him, hard and fast and selfishly, but he wasn't doing that. He was moving slowly, his spike was pulling at the slick lining, making it quiver. It was so much worse. It felt _good_. Primus damn him, Mirage could feel pleasure coming from the frame. Faint, but there.

It wouldn't be as bad, he was sure, if the frame wanted it. But trying to understand how _this_ worked was beyond him. Megatron playing a gentle lover. Starscream not wanting but responding so well. Megatron's implication that they'd never interfaced before and that Starscream flirted.

Well, the flirting Mirage knew was true. He'd seen it often enough, just as he'd witnessed their fights.

But this ... he simply tried to focus on anything other than the frame and what was happening to it. He didn't want his first time like this, even though he was well aware that he'd been unbelievably lucky so far to have avoided such attention. The odds he'd beaten to keep his seal this long was something not even Smokescreen could have calculated, he was sure.

The mouth was moving up his wing-- _Starscream's_ wing--up to his neck, back to his mouth to continue the invasive kisses. The spike inside him was gentle, warm, Megatron's voice was low and soothing whenever their lips parted. " _Yes_ ," repeated over and over, intermixed with coaxes for Starscream to relax, to let Megatron make him feel good, to moan for him.

At some point physics took over and the friction inside the well-lubricated valve drew some honest moans from the frame while Mirage desperately tried not to pay attention.

Each slow push-pull was making it harder. The frame actually _was_ getting charged up from it, as much as it _loathed_ the fact. Nothing was being damaged, so there was nothing to trigger a pain sensor, and Starscream's valve didn't feel the stretch that Mirage would have expected. 

Easier to think in clinical, abstract, removed terms. Megatron didn't know he was in here. He was only a witness, this didn't have to be _him_. 

The frame began to rock into the thrusts, driving the charge up quicker as the moaning increased.

Then, "Enjoying yourself, Mirage?" between the quiet grunts.

His spark froze.

A chuckle, and Megatron's glossa ran up along the side of helm, licking in between the slats in the vent. "I thought you might like it better if we were pretending, but you seem so tense. You can relax and enjoy, it's okay."

Again Mirage tried for get the vocalizer to work. After three bursts of garbled static he managed a weak "What?"

The sound of Starscream's voice made Megatron groan and shudder as his thrusts briefly picked up in speed. "We're just having you over for a little while," he crooned, his glossa circling the audial. "I'm personally seeing to it that your visit is enjoyable."

 _This_ was Megatron's idea of being a good host? The mech was more uncivilized than anyone knew.

"Why?" Mirage managed, noting how distorted and sloppy the voice was. The frame was definitely sedated. Talking and working out how to control the frame he was in helped distract him from what was happening to the frame he was being housed in.

"So many questions," Megatron said with a deep grunt. "Relax and enjoy. It's so much better if you really _feel_ it. Come, now, let me hear you _enjoy_ it, you don't need to be embarrassed."

Horrified, terrified, Mirage's noble spark had still been a SpecOps agent for much of its functioning and the best tricks were ones that his noble heritage and upbringing had taught him.

As sickening as it was, Mirage forced himself to relax and accept the pleasure. He focused on using the sensations surging though the frame to understand it. Focused on using the interface to start to learn how to control the frame. It was by far the worst thing he'd had to do, but this was survival. If Megatron was pleased, he was far less likely to be cruel or violent.

The frame moaned more deeply and rolled its hips up again.

The giant above him gave a tight, needy groan and clutched Mirage tightly, holding onto the heavy wing joints as his frame undulated. All pretense of speaking with _Mirage_ vanished and it was Starscream's designation that came out of slate gray lips again, moaned over and over as Megatron lost himself in the fantasy. "Overload for me, Starscream, give into it," he panted.

Mirage, no matter how disgusted he was, ordered the valve to tighten and drove up harder. He didn't know how to be this half of an interface, but this frame did, and Mirage had enough experience as the spiker to know what would feel good to them both.

Starscream's frame shivered and gasped as the charge began to crest, then keened as it flooded through him.

Megatron roared and transfluid spilled out into his valve, flooding every sensor with heat and charge. " _Yes!_ " His shout sounded like it belonged on a battlefield, not in a berth, and his arms around Mirage were painfully tight and sent off a flurry of warnings in the HUD, but none of them looked like damage. 

The warlord's full weight finally slumped over him, kissing his helm, his mouth, his vents. "Good, good," he mumbled, easily sated and lazier for it. "I cannot wait to enjoy our time together."

Mirage forced the frame to hum agreeably and relax at best as he could manage. He needed time to get control of this frame, longer to find a way out since none of his normal routes would work with the larger, much wider frame he was in.

He'd worry about how sparks were switched and how to convince Jazz the Seeker was his agent later, after he managed to get out of the Nemesis.

* * *

Megatron left Mirage alone long enough for whatever he'd been drugged with to start to clear his systems. He had greater clarity of vision, more ability to focus, and could actively start trying to access the processors and memories that seemed so close but that he just couldn't _quite_ touch. 

When the door opened again, the giant walked through holding a cube with something clear and viscous in it. Definitely not energon. Mirage could easily remember drugs that looked like that, none of them good for Cybertronians. Megatron was willing to poison his SIC's systems to have him helpless and fraggable? It seemed strange, but not outside the realm of possibility given how the warlord had acted lately, especially since arriving on Earth.

Though it wasn't his frame, it was his spark and he wanted to keep access to the processors he was beginning to connect with. As much as it sickened him, he gave a small trill and spread his legs, inviting an interface as best he could think of how.

It made Megatron pause and cock his head, optics simultaneously brightening and narrowing. Mirage was suddenly the subject of all the warlord's attention, and Megatron took a slow step forward. "Eager, aren't you," he said.

"Might as well enjoy my time here," Mirage tried to shrug, which made his wings rub against the berth, sending small flares of pleasure through him.

Megatron gave a thoughtful hum as he continued his slow approach, looking Mirage up and down. The drug stayed in his hand. "I suppose you're going to tell me I should release your bindings, so you enjoy yourself better." 

A genuine laugh echoed up from Starscream's vocalizer. "Not that I wouldn't appreciate it, but I didn't think your processors were that addled."

Megatron's answering laugh was booming. "Words I never imagined I'd hear in that voice," he said, climbing over Mirage. "If you don't think I'm that addled, you'll understand why you're going to drink this." He held the cube to Mirage's lower lip.

The spy gave a sigh, not hiding that he'd been hopeful of it, but drank without fighting it. He even swallowed. This was not the time to try and cheat, even if he'd had a clue as to how with this frame. At the moment, time was on his side.

"Good," Megatron rumbled, as the cube was tossed aside and the now-empty hand went down between Mirage's legs to stroke the exposed valve and rumbled at the slickness there. Intent on playing the part, Mirage pressed willingly into the touch as he felt the drug begin to fog his processing capability.

The responsiveness seemed to be exactly what Megatron wanted and the giant's engines revved with approval and excitement as he got himself situated over Mirage. "Am I to assume you enjoyed yourself before?" he asked as his weight settled down onto Mirage's hips.

"It felt good, yes," Mirage answered, and had the advantage of telling the truth.

"Good," Megatron said as his mouth found Mirage's and his spike sought out the slickness it craved, pressing in. Megatron groaned, didn't hold back, pushed as far forward as he could. "Just because you have to be here doesn't mean you shouldn't indulge." 

Mirage simply moaned, focused on the physical pleasure and trying very hard not to think about the who and where. He couldn't say he'd done worse for the cause, but he'd done worse for his life.

* * *

Mirage didn't know if he preferred being drugged or sober. At least the drug fogged how much he was aware of where he was and what was happening, and on a selfish, personal level, that was a relief. 

On a professional level, that fog, and even the subsequent relief, was unacceptable. He wasn't sure how long it had taken--orns, more, less?--but he was very slowly figuring out how to get the internal mechanics of this frame to run hotter and burn more fuel, flushing the toxin out sooner. The amount of energy burned interfacing was no small help, either, and Mirage had been doing a lot of that. 

He could remember things, now, vaguely. Things he knew weren't his to remember. Which were a spy's very most favorite things. It excited his spark, and those memories were all the fuel he needed to drive on, accepting the good with the bad in the hope that when he returned to Jazz there would be something decisively useful among the mental ramblings of a processor that was brilliant beyond his ability to understand, but destructively disorganized.

It was in one of those brief moments of clarity near the end of a dose wearing off that Mirage noticed he was having trouble thinking, and not because of the drug's effects. He was trying to get deeper into Starscream's knowledge of Ravage's Ark excursions and he kept abruptly finding the thought sequences rerouted to the sky. He took that and shifted his focus to trying to find out what Laserbeak and Buzzsaw did, for he knew they also did a fair amount of Ark infiltration as well.

Aerial views of their current habitation--Mirage refused to think of anything about this planet as _home_ \--were clear. Clear enough to be Starscream's, as the Seeker followed the others' intel that the Ark was empty. Mirage was able to focus in on the routes they took to avoid detection for almost a klik before he was remembering _sky_ and his wings twitched. 

Starscream's wings. The vocalizer whined quietly as he remembered the storms that plagued this planet, and then Mirage was reliving the inside of a blinding electric storm on Cybertron. It was incredible. The power of the storm fueled the flight, replacing energon as the bulk of his sustenance as he fought winds and other Seekers in a non-firefight for control and dominance.

Older, stronger, more mature Seekers rose to challenge him again and again, but never the same one twice. They rose up and he pushed them down for orn after orn until the sky cleared and he was one of the few still on wing.

The frame was _exhilarated_ with the triumph and by the time Mirage came back to some semblance of frame awareness, his wings were trembling, the lower sections of his legs were _itching_ , and he was watching the rapid-fire progression of systems start-up sequences scroll across the HUD, of which he only understood a fraction of. He could guess, though. The frame, despite being bound and fully aware of it, was trying to initiate flight.

This could be painful.

Grimly Mirage focused on trying to make the frame stand down. He visualized being on the ground, relaxed, laying down watching the stars.

The processors kept trying to shift focus back into the air but Mirage knew how to stay centered and calm in even the most horrifying situations, and this was nowhere near the worst he'd ever faced. 

It worked, slowly. The itching subsided and the wings relaxed down from takeoff form. Mirage released a slow x-vent, and realized that Starscream was familiar with the symptoms, and had an ancient Vosian glyph for them. 

_Sky-longing_

With that memory came a flood of factual information mixed in with personal memories, and more glyphs. _Sky-starved, sky-crazed._

"Poor Starscream," a too-familiar voice crooned, as Megatron's form shifted near the door, startling the spy. "Not feeling well?"

Only half coherent about his vocalizer, the ancient Vosian glyph came out, along with a whine of _want_.

That wasn't good. Not good at all. That could have been a much more dangerous question for the Autobots and he may have answered it just as readily.

If Megatron realized the opportunity at his fingertips, he chose not to pursue it. Instead he came close to the berth, trailing his fingers along the padding and over to Mirage's leg, curling around the heel thruster and caressing it. It dragged a strangled, need-filled moan as the turbine whirred back to life. "You know I would love nothing better than to set you loose and watch you _fly_ , but we both know why I can't do that, don't we?"

"I'd never come back," Mirage gave the truthful answer they both knew full well. "You'd have to catch me to get me back."

"Yes," Megatron rumbled as he took slow steps closer to Mirage's head, trailing his fingertips over the frame the entire time with flares of desire licking at Mirage as he arched and pressed into the contact. "You're far from tamed. You could be a beautiful creature, obedient and at my side and heeding my calls, but that will of yours must be broken first." His fingers came to Mirage's lips, tracing a careful outline. "How much fuel have you burned, trying to stay in control of your frame?" 

Mirage momentarily wondered if Megatron knew who he was talking to, but dismissed the question as irrelevant at the moment. "A lot. At 23%." While he wasn't sure how much Starscream would normally burn, he was sure that he was currently using far more or the Seekers would have long ago dropped from the sky when rationing had to be put in place.

Megatron hummed and sat on the edge of the berth, turning at the waist to lean in over Mirage. The looming frame blocking most of his view of the high ceiling sent the processors skittering, though Mirage's calm spark seemed to help keep them in control. He kept the optics focused on the correct depth to see Megatron clearly. 

The warlord's hand came around, holding a small, glimmering object. Mirage fixated on it. Energon. _Fuel_. It firmly distracted his frame from the absence of the sky.

"Would you like some?" Megatron asked with a desiring rumble. "It might help you feel better." 

"Yes," Mirage heard the rasping voice that his frame was famous for. "Please," he added as an afterthought.

Megatron's optics brightened and his mouth curved up, pleasantly surprised. "Maybe you _can_ be taught," he chuckled, and held the small candy to Mirage's lower lip, barely touching. How Megatron still _had_ that kind of confection was beyond Mirage. He'd thought them gone with their planet. "With any luck you will impart some manners into that frame." The treat traced back and forth, leaving a thin coating of the glittering gem dust.

Well, that answered whether Megatron knew who he was talking to. Yet Mirage was having difficulty focusing past the treat he could smell, feel, even taste against his lower lip. He wanted it so very badly. He didn't care that it wasn't the quality he'd once never given a thought to. It was energon, highly concentrated, and tasty too. His lips parted and glossa slid out to curl around the treat and Megatron's fingers.

Engines rumbled in response and Megatron was _pleased_. He didn't relinquish the treat, but held it as Mirage licked at it, turning his wrist and rolling it slowly to let the spy get all of the sweet coating. If Mirage had been in his own frame, he was sure he'd be able to ID the crystal the dust was made from, and likely its origins, but as it stood all he was sure of was that it was pulverized crystal and the candy that came off with it sent a rush through systems that were not at all used to it.

He didn't try to mute the whine of want as he tried to curl his glossa around it again.

Megatron chuckled, teeking deeply aroused and pleased with the image of his Second, needy and helpless at his fingertips. "You are lovely," he murmured, letting Mirage continue to lap and suck as much on his fingers as the actual candy until he was satisfied with the display, and let it slip into Mirage's mouth.

The noble wanted to savor it, suck on it and allow it to gradually melt. His frame had other ideas and the hard shell was crunched between two denta almost immediately, sending a flood of the most delectable sensations across the glossa.

Mirage moaned in pleasure that was half his and half the frame's, but he wasn't ignorant of just how hungry the frame was. _He_ hadn't been this hungry since they'd arrived on Earth, though the sensation was all too familiar from before. What wasn't familiar was the way the energon, even that tiny amount, went straight into the flight systems, before any of the rest of the life-sustaining equipment, and it made him crave more. 

Megatron seemed to realize it, too, because another candy was being held out between the giant's fingers, held _just_ far enough away that Mirage would have to lift his head up for it. The frame didn't hesitate, moving even before Mirage made a choice, and _that_ was beginning to get irritating.

Didn't the Seeker have the same control as the rest of them?

Despite the questions, Mirage didn't fight the frame in this. It wasn't as if anything worse than the drugs could be hidden in those candies. They were just another fantasy of the warlord's to play out and Mirage was willing to play along. At the moment, he couldn't see any other choice. 

Megatron forced him to lavish the same care on this candy as the last one, and held onto it for longer, slipping his fingers into the spy's mouth and preventing him from biting down, forcing him to let the treat dissolve there. 

"Are you enjoying yourself here?" Megatron asked in a warm, deep voice after several more tauntingly slow treats. 

Mirage shivered, mostly from the frame-driven need to _move_. "Energon, please. I'd like to really enjoy such treats. I'm so hungry."

It was, perhaps, a bit on the dramatic side, but it was also very true.

Megatron hummed and granted Mirage another candy to work for. His other hand came over the cockpit glass, stroking up and down, caressing. Groping. Mirage felt the frame focus on the treat, so he nudged it to press into the touch that did feel good. It had a lot of sensors in common with his nosecone, and lay in the same part of his root mode frame.

But the candy was _good_ , and to both Mirage and the frame it was far more interesting than the pleasure of arousal.

Megatron didn't seem bothered and continued the slow feeding as his hand gradually wandered lower over the course of several treats. The candies were low enough in actual fuel that Mirage still _wanted_ , flight systems still _craved_ , and he was so focused on licking away the hard shell of the treat in his mouth that it was almost a surprise when fingers pressed down on his valve cover. 

It snapped away immediately, just like it always did, and fingers pressed into him. Megatron's field became thick with arousal, but he made no move to stop the candies and what Megatron did with the frame, as disgusting as Mirage found it, was not relevant. The big mech wanted to pleasure the frame and Mirage was willing to let him without fuss, and even enjoy it to an extent. For Mirage, he knew once he was with Jazz there would be some major work sorting him out, but this was not Mirage's frame, so at least the memories wouldn't be nearly so sharp as the ones of torture and violation he'd endured as himself.

So he gave Megatron what he wanted in a display, licking, sucking, moaning and pressing into touches without apparent shame. The shame was held carefully inside, sequestered away so the giant would not become angry and turn his infamous temper and capacity to deliver pain on him. It was a small price Mirage kept telling himself.

Gradually, he began to realize that the treats were getting harder and harder to reach, until he was straining to get to them, glossa out just to _flick_ the surface of one. He whined, and shuddered when a crooked finger swirled inside his valve. He'd been mostly ignoring everything down there in favor of getting as much fuel as he could, to flush out the last remnants of poison, to power the flight systems, to _survive_. But even without having paid attention, he was dripping lubricant and Megatron's steady, even strokes made the sensors ring with pleasure. 

But the candy was _right there_ and he could still _taste_ it on his glossa. Megatron allowed him a few more licks, even dipped down to let him suck on it for a moment, before it was pulled away entirely.

It was enough to earn a growl, though that was as much from the frame as Mirage's annoyance. 

"Well there's a familiar sound," Megatron chuckled, and there was a patronizing amusement in his voice. "Come, now, if you want more you have to be good."

Mirage forced the frame to settle down and be quiet, though it did little to still the irritation from his field. He could behave, but it didn't mean he'd like it.

Megatron smirked at him. "Better," he said. His fingers stroked inside Mirage and he lifted the candy to his mouth, slipping it in and sucking on it, letting his enjoyment roll out into his field and onto Mirage. "I'd like to see you enjoy yourself a little bit."

"It is difficult to enjoy myself when I'm _starving_ ," Mirage bit out, genuinely surprised by the amount of venom in the harmonics. Sure he was annoyed, but _that_ didn't sound like his reaction at all.

A grin widened over Megatron's face. "Temper and sass," he said, obviously enjoying it. "You're a smart mech, you know what I want to see."

Even before Mirage could sort out what that meant, the frame was moving, rocking into the fingers in its valve and squeezing, clearly trying to draw pleasure from it and physically succeeding. After a moment of watching the reaction, Mirage did his best to back out of the way and let it happen. It didn't matter if he enjoyed this, or if it would never have worked on him. If a hand wasn't good enjoy for his spike, fingers would never work on his valve, even if he'd agreed to allow someone to touch it.

When the arousal dropped into his thoughts, Mirage forced himself to think of other things, of what it felt like to sink into a proper lover, or even Jazz's mouth. A few of those memories, even dimmed by the lack of a recording, were intensely erotic.

Megatron's pleased rumble as the arousal from the memories came out in his field let him know that he was at least doing what the giant wanted, pushing and pulling on the fingers as Megatron watched with naked lust in his optics. Mirage was dimly aware that he was talking, praising him and his efforts, but it all went away when another treat was pulled out and held tantalizingly close. To get it he would have to push his torso up as far as he could, and do that he'd need to lower his hips back down, and he knew that Megatron would pull it out of reach as soon as he did. 

So he let the frame move as it willed while staying hyper-focused on the fuel source, determined to do whatever he had to to get it. 

"So exquisite," Megatron crooned to him. "You're almost there, don't stop now."

Hatred for Megatron bloomed anew, but Mirage forced it down and focused on the memories of pleasure that wouldn't hinder the frame. It seemed like it had been forever when he finally felt the leading edge of an overload. He'd never been more grateful in his entire existence for it, and could only hope that as weak as it was it was enough for the giant.

Apparently it was, because as the frame stiffened and arched, the treat was slipped between his parted lips while the fingers thrust into his quivering valve and stayed there. The heated revving of Megatron's engine was louder than his own short moan.

As he sank down, trembling from the effort it had taken to reach an overload, Megatron slid onto the berth next to him, stretched out and stroking his helm as he claimed a deep kiss, glossa delving in to taste the lingering flavor of the candy. The fingers finally slipped out from his valve, rubbed the platelets in slow, gentle circles that made Mirage twitch before that hand came up to place another treat to his mouth, coated with his own lubricant.

It gave an unpleasant taste to the otherwise delectable treat, but Mirage had ignored far, far worse contaminants and this time he managed to control the frame's greed enough to roll the treat around his mouth enough that it softened considerably before being crushed between glossa and the room of his oral cavity.

Another one replaced it immediately, as this time the fingers slipped into his mouth to be cleaned. Mirage was compliant, licking and sucking the fingers until they went away so he could focus on the candy he was really beginning to wonder where it had come from. Not that he was going to ask today. Today he was going to focus on hoping that Megatron was just in a strange mood and would return to using his spike soon.

At least the giant was pleased, and the treats continued without any teasing for a long time after that, and Mirage was able to fall into recharge with fuel-settled flight systems after Megatron finally left. And for the first time, he didn't pour any of the drug into Mirage's lines.

* * *

Three orns. Three very long drug-free orns. That was how long it had taken Mirage to translate enough of his escape knowledge into getting Starscream's frame to twist, micro-transform and wiggle out of the restraints.

The first moment upright in entirely too long was disorienting in the extreme, but it was also the moment when the frame realized that it wasn't bound to the berth and made a mad dash for the door, the control room and its tower clear in its processors. Mirage only barely managed to stop it two steps into the hall and through force of will alone drove it to follow a different path. It was difficult, getting the frame to abandon its original destination, but eventually focusing on _hide-safeplace_ got it to shift focus and work its way deep into the ship.

Stumbling here and there, using the wall for support as much as guide, Mirage was certain that he looked nothing like the Air Commander at the moment. He felt exposed, and there was an alarming vulnerability in being visible that his spark _did not like_ , and he had to remind himself over and over that this frame belonged here. 

The question was, were the Decepticons all aware of his switch, or was it just Megatron and, he suspected, Soundwave?

A brief flare of panic gripped him at the sound of pedefalls approaching. There was nowhere to duck into, nowhere to hide, no disruptor field to hide him, not even his spark-gift ... _would_ his spark gift work, and would it help him hide or give him away?

At the last moment, he decided not to try, on the chance that a translucent but visible Starscream would create more suspicion than a staggering one. Given the number of times they'd witnessed Megatron beating his SIC to scrap, it couldn't be _that_ unusual for Starscream to be stumbling around here. Mirage just had to take a chance and hope. 

Dirge came sulking around the corner and paused when he saw Starscream. Mirage narrowed his optics and glared at the other Seeker, his wings lifting up without having to think about it. Dirge's expression didn't change, and after a moment, kept on his slow, ponderous way and Mirage gratefully relaxed a bit when he was gone, then continued to move himself.

Mirage barely had time to wonder at the dead-end he reached when the frame knocked on the wall. Just a rap, like one would a door without an access panel.

He stared at it, scrambling to make his way through Starscream's processors to understand why the frame had walked _here_ \--

A frame appeared right next to him with a small, distinctive _pop_ in the air that both frame and spark knew extremely well, and with very different connotations. Mirage wanted to bolt, the processors felt ... _relieved_. 

And then before he could react, arms wrapped around him and Mirage felt himself _pulled_ through the air in an unsettling, squeezing way and when he felt solid again, he looked around to see a small enclosed space, and it triggered the correct memories. 

This was Skywarp's hiding place. It was blocked off from the rest of the ship from structural damage, and the purple Seeker liked to retreat here when he wasn't staying in the trine's quarters for some reason. 

Most importantly, this place was _safe_. 

"Where the frag have you been?" Skywarp hissed, and the arms around him didn't let go, but his field was a mix of _stress-relief-worry_.

"Megatron ... tied me to his berth," Mirage murmured, taking the reaction to mean that Starscream's trine didn't know who was in Starscream's frame. That meant he had a couple powerful allies to get out. "Haven't seen the sky in so long," he noted the plaintive, half-crazed warble in the vocalization for later. "How long?"

"Screamer!" Skywarp said in shocked dismay, and then the same _pull_ and they were suddenly high in the air, and Mirage's spark shrunk in the chest when he saw how high and he grabbed at the other Seeker and yelped in alarm. It startled Skywarp, who thankfully didn't let go.

"Disabled thrusters," Mirage managed to get out after a moment of scrambling for a cover. It just happened to be true. Yet at the same time he felt his frame relaxing with a visceral warble of relief. He still held tightly to Skywarp, but it was to keep from falling.

The Seeker's processors felt _ever_ so much better already, optics locked upwards on the open sky.

It was a little freaky for Mirage.

"You've been gone since that last big fight with the Autobots," Skywarp said, as another quick jump took them even higher. Mirage's spark spun when he looked at the ground, but the absolute serenity that was taking over the processors calmed him quickly. "He _tied_ you to his _berth?_ "

"Drugged, stasis cuffs, bound, no comms or thrusters," Mirage shivered. "I was knocked out by something during the battle. Came online like that."

"Fragger," Skywarp growled. He didn't ask what Starscream had done to get himself in there, and somehow Mirage knew he wasn't going to, so he could just relax, cling to the Seeker, and let Skywarp keep him hovering in the sky. "Any better?" Skywarp asked after a while.

"Yes," Mirage murmured, his frame relaxing by the klik and his spark now settled by the trust the processors had for this mech and the open sky. "Knew you'd get me out." And he _had_ known, even if he hadn't realized it. His processor had a single, intense glyph for Skywarp, one that Mirage didn't understand. 

_Action._

"Yeah, 'course," Skywarp said, jarring him from his thoughts, and two jumps later, they were back in the enclosed room. Mirage noted the processors focus on the ceiling height before easily shifting away without the distress he'd been feeling before. "You're rubbish when you're cranky. Wanna stick around here a bit?"

"I'm never rubbish," the frame grumbled and Mirage let it. Anything to get through such a close encounter with a mech who musth know Starscream very well. "Yes," he leaned against his trinemate. "Need to get my thrusters fixed, weapons online before he starts looking."

There was a pause, then Skywarp's startled, "He's still looking for you? He didn't let you go?"

"No, he didn't let me go," Mirage didn't hide his irritation and genuine frustration at it as he tried to focus enough to determine what was wrong with his thrusters. Starscream might find weapons more important, but Mirage wanted _out_ , and _out_ meant he needed to fly. It was the only way he'd get to the Ark before he was tracked down.

"Okay," Skywarp said slowly. "Okay ... so we need to--" He vanished. 

Mirage blinked his optics in surprise, and before he could fully tackle the question of being trapped in here, Skywarp reappeared with Thundercracker in tow. 

"Fraggit 'Warp I told you not to do that!" Thundercracker shouted, and cuffed Skywarp around the back of the helm before he noticed Mirage in the corner. "Hey, you found Screamer!" 

"Yeah, but," Skywarp said.

"Our glorious leader has _completely_ lost his frelling mind," Mirage snarled in full Starscream mode. He'd watched enough of the Seeker's rants to have a feel for them, and the frame definitely knew it all very well. The insults came very easily. "Thrusters, weapons need to be fixed. The bucket head's had me drugged the entire time."

Thundercracker's startled gaze snapped around to him before he glanced back to Skywarp, who nodded in quick agreement. The blue Seeker gave a heavy sigh as he turned back to regard Mirage. "What did you do." 

"TC," Skywarp started. "He was--"

A quick glare from Thundercracker got him silent again and then they were both looking at Mirage.

"What do I _ever_ do to deserve it?" Starscream snarled -- and it was definitely Starscream's thoughts here -- furious that they'd ask such a question of _him_. "The mech finally lost it and let his lust override what little sense he had left."

Thundercracker's wings twitched-- _disgust_ \--and then he shuddered. "Fine. I'll help. But I swear to _Primus_ , Star, if this comes back around to bite us in the aft again--" 

" _Thundercracker,_ " Skywarp snarled.

The blue Seeker huffed and gave Skywarp a look that spoke of long suffering, but also of deep fondness. It reminded Mirage of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe more than a bit, and watching the way their wings canted as they looked at each other suddenly brought another glyph to mind. 

_Mate._

"Just help me get my systems back online. By then the last of the drugs should have cleared," Mirage ordered, storing that information away. 

Thundercracker's engines grumbled but he knelt next to Starscream's pede and began a field check to try and work out how it had been disabled while Mirage turned inward to try to untangle the coding locks.

He recognized Soundwave's work now that he could think straight without jumping over to _sky_ , but without his usual tools, he was left to look at it from scratch. At least Starscream's processors were fast and worked through the knots in the comm systems quickly, putting them to rights hopefully faster than Soundwave would expect. 

It was still a _lot_ of work and he'd only grazed it when the other two twitched simultaneously. 

"Megatron found you gone," Thundercracker said tersely. "He's fragged off."

Mirage made a flash decision to protect his trine. _His trine?_ "Get me outside, in the water near shore. He won't know you helped me."

Skywarp's wings tensed and he looked at Thundercracker from where he'd been waiting. "But you can't _fly_." 

"And if Megatron finds him in here, neither will we," Thundercracker said decisively. He reached out towards the purple Seeker. "Let's go." Skywarp scowled at him. Thundercracker gave an irritated grunt. "Fine, I'll try to keep doing repairs once we're out there." 

Skywarp unhappily complied, and took them first up, and then two hops over to the shore. 

It wasn't quite what Mirage had planned, but he wasn't going to complain if Thundercracker could get him mobile again. He knew that Starscream was by far the fastest thing in the air. It would only take kliks, likely half a breem, to reach the Ark if he could fly. Walking would take joors. Many, many joors.

Once they were out there, dealing with water and sand and a Thundercracker who grew increasingly nervous by the klik, it became clear that he wasn't going to finish the repairs in any kind of good time. 

"Get back inside the Nemesis before he finds you out here," Mirage finally said. Even Skywarp only protested for a moment before his trinemates both wished him luck and vanished. With the pair gone, Mirage took quick stock of his hiding options and went back in the water for underwater caves he knew of. The Decepticons didn't patrol the water. There were good odds he could hide there until he had comms online, or nightfall, whichever came first.

He tucked himself into the first one he found that could finally support his wingspan, and the edges still scraped painfully against the tips. He cringed internally. No wonder the twins always had such good luck getting the Seekers down once they'd managed to get on top of them; wing damage _hurt_ , even just small amounts. 

Enough time passed that he was starting to relax and feel good about his ability to finish untangling the coding blocks when two pinpoint red lights appeared in the darkness of the open water beyond. His spark sank. He'd just given up a valuable tactical point. At least this was a large cave and not one that they actually used, but how was he discovered so quickly?

Movements slowed by the water, he moved towards the optics, sure it was one of the cassettes, though the Refractor components were also that small.

It was hard to tell in the darkness, and whoever it was watched him closely as he approached, the silt in the water colored a dark ruby from his own optics as his movement stirred it all up again. With an inward curse for this planet--one that belonged not only to him, but was a familiar repetition for the processors as well--he shot his hand out towards the optics, hoping to catch and disable with enough time to find a new hiding spot.

Sharp teeth in a powerful jaw bit down on his hand, identifying his watcher as Ravage. Wonderful.

Despite the frame's desire to pull back, Mirage used the fact that he had Ravage occupied to grab the mecha-animal's neck and snap it. Which wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but as Ravage went limp, dropped into emergency stasis by the barrage of error messages, Mirage extracted his hand and slipped out of the cave with a few extra scratches to his wings.

Now where?

Above the waterline would put him at greater risk of being seen, deeper and he risked being found for being in the same relative area. 

In the end, he chose deeper and hoped that Ravage had just been lucky, and that 'Cons wouldn't know some of the trickier systems the way he did. He missed his extensive mental mapping, but he knew there were some confusing mazes that could give a good defensive position. 

He'd almost gotten himself squeezed through the opening of one that was almost too small when another set of red optics appeared behind him, and this time, they weren't those of a cassette. Soundwave had found him.

Slag.

Even armed Starscream wasn't usually a match for Soundwave, and Mirage wasn't either despite his skills in hand to hand.

"How did you find me?" Mirage asked, shifting towards the open sea.

Soundwave didn't answer as he held his hands out to accept a peaceful surrender. "Megatron: arriving shortly," he told Mirage. "Surrender: advised."

Mirage debated. Soundwave remained silent, waiting.

There was no escaping. He knew that. They both knew. Without thrusters this frame had no hope of getting away.

Reluctantly, Mirage did what they both knew was the reasonable thing and offered his wrists, fingers curled loosely. He would not fight.

Soundwave seemed almost, disappointed? Apologetic? It was hard to tell, although Starscream had a better chance at reading the stoic host's moods better than he did in his own frame, and Soundwave was definitely not thrilled about what was happening right now. 

Even so, inactive stasis cuffs went around his wrists and Mirage was pulled further away from the cliffs and potential weapons and escape routes as Megatron appeared out of the surrounding darkness. 

He looked _furious_. 

"Skywarp!" the giant roared, and for a single, horror-stricken moment Mirage thought his trine's role in his escape had been discovered, before Skywarp appeared next to them, looking startled. His optics locked on Mirage's. "My quarters," Megatron ground out. 

Skywarp nodded, slowly touched both of them, and they jumped over to Megatron's quarters without Soundwave. 

"Get out," Megatron hissed to the teleporter as soon as they were inside and Skywarp nodded quickly, vanishing.

"Surely you realized I had to try," Mirage said evenly. "That is what prisoners do."

Megatron's fury-bright optics snapped to him. "I was _good_ to you," he snarled.

"Yes, and if I was a Decepticon I expect that I would have been honored. Knowing what you are capable of, I do not understand why Starscream is so fixated on not being in your berth," Mirage pointed out. "However, I am not a Decepticon. I am a prisoner, no matter how gilded the cage and nice the guard. It is my duty to return to my commander unless I defect. As nice as you have been, you have given me no reason to defect."

"Has it occurred to you that you have no way to get your frame back on your own?" Megatron growled at him, then pointed at the berth. "Lay down."

Mirage complied. "The odds are preferable with this one at the Ark. Or I become accustomed to it and take on a new role in the war. Either way, remaining bound to your berth until the frame goes completely insane and shuts itself down was my other prospect."

His hands were shackled over his head and Megatron crushed the metal of the restraints until they moulded to the shape of his wrists. "You wouldn't have gone insane, I would have leashed you and let you out," Megatron snarled. A cube pressed to his lips. "Drink."

Mirage complied, already knowing it was an even stronger concoction than before. "Starscream's processors did not believe that was a likely event. He also calculated that the drugs you are feeding me have already caused irrespirable damage and will continue to do so," he had to struggle to keep speaking. "Maybe if your own second in command trusted you with anything, I wouldn't have moved that quickly."

"Shut up," Megatron growled, as he grabbed a corner of Mirage's wing and dragged his fingers, transformed out into claws, along the underside until the spy keened in pain. He climbed over him on the berth and shoved his legs apart, unsatisfied with the complete lack of resistance that wasn't entirely due to the drugs.

His hand cracked across Mirage's face and he tried to tear off the valve cover, but it retracted before he could find purchase. A deeply enraged growl shook his entire chassis and clawed fingers pushed in, digging at the lining.

There was pain, intense and purposeful, but Mirage relaxed into it. Aided by the drugs that bolstered intense training, he allowed the frame to scream, twist and struggle while he didn't pay attention. _His_ full focus returned to getting the comm system back online enough for one burst message. It was all he needed to do. A single burst message and Jazz would handle the rest.


	5. Back Where We Belong

Starscream snarled to himself as he was _almost_ caught by Prowl while trying to sneak away from the battle. He was supposed to be on sabotage detail, and he would probably get in massive amounts of trouble later, but he needed to get back aboard the Nemesis. 

He was supposed to be swapping back into his own frame soon, but damned if he would let Megatron put him in that drug-riddled thing. He needed to swap on his own terms, which would involve breaking Mirage out and meeting him somewhere off the Nemesis. And that would take cooperation and planning. 

Getting into the Nemesis was easy, and it was almost entirely deserted with the battle over an oil field half a continent away. When he peeked into Megatron's quarters, he found his frame still there, chained to the berth, and he shimmered back into visibility and walked over. How aware Mirage was of his presence was questionable. "Hey," he hissed. "You had better be alive."

Slack features and dim, glazed-over optics turned towards him as the helm lolled towards the sound. The frame tried to say something, but no sound came out.

Starscream's optics narrowed as his gaze swept up and down, taking in the damage. Megatron had apparently taken plenty of frustration out on his frame, and it looked like the vocalizer was likely damaged. "Right, look, I wanted no part in this," he said, holding a finger up and moving it back and forth, trying to see how well Mirage could track the movement. 

Not very well, but there was some awareness at least.

Starscream definitely wasn't hopping back into _this_ frame. "Do you think you can get out if I help you?"

 _Tracker_ the lips moved with careful exaggeration.

Starscream cursed. "Do you know where?"

 _Spark_ Mirage had to work to say, his ability to focus slipping once more.

Starscream shuddered and tapped at the chest plates, which opened after a delay. A quick visual scan didn't reveal anything. "Can you be _any_ more specific than that?" he snapped.

Mirage made the effort to focus, optics drifting over his frame in the control of another, and mouthed _main line_.

"Frag this so hard," Starscream muttered as his fingers found the main energon supply line and followed along until he touched the unfamiliar shape of the tracking device, gave a careful tug, and then pulled it out. He lifted it up, peering at it, and thought about crushing it for a moment before looking down at the disabled wreck that was his frame. "Sorry, I'm gonna have to leave you here for now," he said, and climbed off, getting down on ground and reaching under the berth to fix the tracker there. "But I'll be back, all right? I'm not letting Megatron put me back into _that_."

Mirage nodded weakly and the optics powered down, the entire frame going lax as it slipped into a drug-hazed recharge.

Starscream looked back over the familiar face, shook his head, and looked around the room. He spotted the empty cube on the berthside quickly and picked it up, carefully smelling the contents before slipping it into subspace. He'd need to see if maybe Perceptor could develop an antidote for him, that kind of work had never been his specialty. 

One last glance around and he disappeared, hoping to get back in time before Prowl noticed he was gone.

* * *

Starscream was looking right at the Sovereign board but not really seeing it. He couldn't stop thinking about what his frame had looked like, and how much he _didn't_ want to go back into it. 

He knew he had to soon, though, because the sky-longing in his spark was starting to ache. He didn't have the coding craze of the frame and he could at least see the sky regularly, but he could feel it building from not being able to fly. He really didn't want to think about what his frame must be going through right now from it. It was probably the only saving grace of the drugs. It no doubt dulled the perception of time and eased the sky-longing.

The drug. He couldn't help a shudder at what Perceptor had told him it would do to a frame long-term, and that the long-term had already begun. The worst effects weren't kicking in yet, but his frame had likely already suffered permanent damage.

He was going to _murder_ that damn mech. Then Shockwave for coming up with the device.

"Mirage?" Prowl's voice was low and openly concerned.

He shook himself back to the present. "Sorry," he murmured, lifting his optics up and offering Prowl a smile. "Distracted, I guess."

"Would you tell me about it?" Prowl offered. "Perhaps I can perceive an option you have not."

Starscream hummed and reached across the table, wrapping his fingers around Prowl's as the white hand turned to hold them. "That drug I recovered ... I'm worried about what Megatron could be doing with it." It was the truth, mostly.

"It is a very nasty concoction with no valid use," Prowl agreed. "It is, fortunately, just as damaging to the processors as the frame. It will be of little use except to sedate prisoners for transport, which is unlikely, given forced stasis is cheaper and more efficient."

A reminder that Starscream didn't need. "He could use it as a weapon," Starscream said. "On prisoners. So that even if they are recovered..." He picked up a piece and twirled it in his fingers. "What if it was you or me?"

"Ratchet and the science team would have their work cut out for them," Prowl said grimly, his field flickering with hints of protective anger that brought to mind the plans he'd created for when he was no longer bound by Optimus Prime's morals, and those plans Jazz had created to take out Autobots should the need arise. "If it was you, there would be a few Decepticons in a great deal of pain."

Starscream nodded. "Chances are, though, in that hypothetical I wouldn't be me anymore." Stupid, moronic, _soft_ Autobot sentiments messing with him. "No amount of killing Decepticons would ever change that."

"I know," Prowl murmured, the hurt at the thought bright and sharp in his field. "It would, at least, make your loss a turning point. The Decepticons are not a cohesive force. Take out a small handful of key individuals and any semblance of organization and order will fall apart." Pale blue optics flicked up to meet Starscream's golden pair, then dropped again. "I am not above vengeance anymore. I may have held onto much of him, but the Enforcer I was has not survived the war intact."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Starscream said, leaning back in his chair and looking off to the side. "I..." He hesitated, and thought very carefully about what he wanted to say in this moment. Prowl's thumb rubbed over the back of his hand. "I hope we never have to regret this."

"There is nothing to regret," Prowl responded firmly. "Every orn they we manage to have something beyond survival and the war is a victory worth enjoying."

A small smile curled over Starscream's mouth. "I will try to remember that," he said, putting the piece back down where he'd taken it from. "Even when things get bad. I suddenly don't feel much like playing anymore."

"Then what does appeal to you now?" Prowl asked with a soft, purring trill.

Yellow optics brightened to an intense glow and Starscream stood with all the grace and seduction of the frame. He moved around the table, never letting go of Prowl's hand, and drew the tactician to his pedes with a single coaxing finger brushed under his chin. "I'd like to create a good memory to hold onto when everything is dark," he murmured.

"I am all yours," Prowl's engine gave a deep, heady rev as he slid his hands up Starscream's chest and leaned in for a kiss.

Starscream fought unsuccessfully back against the wanting groan as his hands came up to cover Prowl's. He walked his lover backwards to the berth, pushing him down and climbing over him to return the kiss with just as much fire, nudging their pelvises together. "I'm going to fill you," he whispered, low and husky. 

A flare of desire, of _want_ flooded Prowl's field as he spread his legs and slid his valve cover open, rubbing back against his lover shamelessly.

Starscream shifted easily down and back, his spike extending in a single smooth motion, right into Prowl. The valve that had only ever known him was tight, forming effortlessly to the shape that it knew well. "Love you," Starscream whispered, and told himself it was all part of the ruse to ensnare, entangle, and then destroy the Autobot SIC.

Prowl shivered and pressed into his lover, his vocalizer crackling static while his field expressed his emotions fully. So did the click of his chest's armor locks.

Starscream shivered, and he _wanted_ \--it had been so long--but he put his hands over the locks with gentle pressure. "Later," he whispered, and rocked his hips. "When we can give ourselves fully." 

Prowl nodded weakly, locking the armor once more and focusing on where their bodies joined. His hands skimmed over Starscream's frame, enticing moans while his valve worked to give the most pleasure to them both. Starscream sank gratefully into the welcoming heat with each thrust, mouth on Prowl's collar, hands pinning the doorwings down, and as they rocked together, found himself hoping this wasn't the last time.

* * *

The battle alarms and the Prime's subsequent call to roll out came less than an orn later, and Starscream knew this was the battle in which he was meant to switch back to his own frame. 

Slag that. 

He was still hopeful of managing to get an antidote and figuring out how to get Mirage out of Megatron's grasp so they could switch back somewhere in relative safety. 

He had a plan. It was going to work. 

At least, it was going to work until something slammed the back of his helm and everything went black.

His boot sequence was sluggish, erratic and produced enough errors that he knew he'd been on the wrong side of Megatron's temper long before he was fully conscious. The red damage reports were scrolling by, line after line after line and Starscream groaned.

"Ah, welcome back, my Second," Megatron's voice greeted him, something that panicked his spark and completely freaked out his processors. Processors that he was having a remarkably difficult time accessing.

That created even _more_ panic, until he remembered the slow access he'd initially had to Mirage's processors. 

So he had no idea what his frame had been through, except by clues offered from the damage reports. Which were growing more extensive by the line. 

And, _oh_ \--

An ache that went deeper than his frame, went into his spark, and beyond--

He tried to speak, and nothing more than a cracked moan came out. Fly. He needed to _fly_.

"Easy Starscream," Megatron's voice tried to sooth. The hand that caressed his cockpit was gentle. "The drugs will wear off in time and your frame has been tended to. There's nothing to worry about. The plan worked perfectly."

It took some doing, but Starscream managed to force some jagged glyphs out. "You're," vents heaved and tried to cool his damaged systems, " _Lying._ "

"I'm not. You'll feel much better with fresh energon and good recharge," the warlord brought a cube of pure, clean, fresh energon to Starscream's lower lip. "Drink. You will feel better soon. All the systems I disabled have been enabled again."

The energon flowed cool and soothing down his intake and no amount of willpower could keep Starscream from drinking it, as much as he wanted to scorn the offering. Without being able to get into his processors, he couldn't get a good feel for what had been done to him and subsequently fixed, and he knew better than to test the flight systems while he was in such an enclosed space. "What, the _frag_ , did you do to me?" he rasped when the cube was empty, pulling at his wrists. They were restrained. "Let me go!"

"We need to be careful until we are sure that the spy did not do anything to your processors," Megatron tried to soothe, and strange as it was, he teeked of telling the truth. "Your thrusters were disabled and weapons removed. The rest is damage the spy did when he attempted to escape."

That wasn't quite so truthful, but coming from Megatron, it was fairly close.

Starscream tried to settle. Panicking wouldn't do him any good. He got his vision online and moved hazy, unwilling optics to fix on the large, dark form that was Megatron. "You were supposed to keep me in stasis."

"It was more useful to have the spy aware, at least some of the time," Megatron shrugged, gently petting Starscream's frame. "Hook assures me the drug will wear off within the orn, and he has given you a compound that should counter any permanent ill effects. Until then, relax."

Starscream whined as thoughts of the open sky filled his thoughts before forcefully redirecting them, but not before turbines whirred to life. They settled quickly once he did. "Let me rest in my quarters," he said plaintively. Maybe sucking up to the warlord would get him further than griping at him. "I wouldn't want to take up precious space in yours."

"After all you did for the cause, you are welcome to be here forever," Megatron purred as his fingers slid lower to fondle Starscream's nosecone. "I quite like having you here."

Starscream's wings twitched as _disgust_ boiled unchecked through his field, but he managed to keep from pulling away. "I'd hate to be an inconvenience," he bit out. "Skywarp and Thundercracker can watch over me."

"They are on patrol," Megatron said. "I really cannot let you loose until we are sure that you are free of viruses and any other nasties that spy may have created," he insisted while his hand traveled further down to stroke the valve cover so very accustomed to opening for him.

And to Starscream's horror, it did again. He recognized the automatic response, how could he not? But it was meant for his trine and other lovers he took willingly, not just anyone who copped a feel! There should have been a disengage option, something, _anything_ , and he was still locked out of his processors. "Keep your _filthy_ grounder hands off me!" he snarled.

"Your frame says otherwise," Megatron purred as he sank two fingers into the slick, ready valve, aroused by the fire on display and the scene itself.

" _Obviously_ my frame is _glitched!_ " Starscream shrieked at him, twisting his hips and trying to pull off. "Get _off!_ "

"It's more likely you are suffering the effects of exposure to Autobot coding for an extended time. What Decepticon refuses what their frame wants?" Megatron countered, working his fingers in and out, using experience gained over a metacycle to work the frame's charge higher.

"One that _actually_ has some _pride_ ," Starscream hissed, his hands clenching around the chains keeping his arms tied down, pedes digging into the berth as his hips lifted up, his entire frame going taut with effort that was quickly turning into something other than an attempt to break free. Hips gave short, quick bucks against Megatron's knowing fingers, optics flickered with a harsh, hot x-vent. "Stop-- _stop!_ " A quickly-stifled moan, a hiss. "Stop... _nnh_..."

"Relax and enjoy it. Your frame clearly is," Megatron rumbled. "You've been flirting with me since we met. We both know you don't _really_ want me to stop."

"We both know you're a rust-headed, glitched out megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur," Starscream hissed. "I flirt because it's an easy way to control _grounders_ who just want to, ahh--" He bucked up. "-- _Rut_ like _organics._ "

"At least you are somewhat back to yourself," Megatron chuckled just a bit darkly. "Except you're the one trying to rut on my fingers. I'll give you what you want soon. I promise."

Starscream's optics tried to focus and narrowed into furious points of light. "I swear, Megatron, if you don't--" His engines whined and raced and _how_ did Megatron know how to work him over like this-- "If you _don't_ \--untie me--" Starscream's helm slammed back into the berth and his mouth opened in a silent scream of effort to keep from overloading. What had _happened_ to his frame? He had no control over himself and the energy, couldn't get into any internal workings to bleed the charge off. "M-meg-- Mega-- _tro--aaah!_ " 

His scream was piercing, shrill, furious.

It was also more than enough to rev Megatron's engine to redline. "Gorgeous."

As Starscream started to come down he felt as much as saw the large shadow move over him and teeked the intense level of arousal that spoke of familiarity.

"You always feel best after an overload on my fingers," Megatron rumbled before sinking into the still-quivering and crackling slick heat of Starscream's valve. "So good," he moaned before pressing his mouth to Starscream's in a demanding kiss.

"Get--that disgusting-- _thing_ out of me or I swear to Primus I will _kill_ you!" Starscream shrieked, jerking his head away.

"How many times have you said that and still don't mean it?" Megatron rumbled with a dangerous edge as he began to thrust. "You're a slut to your valve and we both know it."

"Well I guess you'd know, only a slut would ever have _you_ ," Starscream spat. "Do you have to tie down _every_ 'face?"

"Only the ones I expect to deactivate me if I don't," Megatron's chuckle was interrupted by a deep moan as his thrusts began to build his charge. "Which given who's been in this frame lately, I expect it is."

"Wait--until I'm-- _free!_ " Starscream gasped. "I'll-- _I'll--!_ " His hips bucked as his frame thrashed through its second hard overload, unresisting to the charge and the pleasure. Megatron continued to grunt over him, rutting as only a low-intelligence grounder did, but his frame just refused to do anything but charge up and overload as hard and often as it could.

What _had_ that damn spy done to him? What had Megatron done to his frame?

"Gonna kill you," Starscream barely managed a whisper before the last overload he was aware of slammed through him.

* * *

Prowl couldn't help but think how different things were from the last time Mirage had been injured in battle. That time, just over a metacycle ago, he would not have dared to touch, much less over by the berth, holding his lover's hand and being the lovesick worrier taking Ratchet's verbal abuse. He hadn't even dared dream it was possible that he would have a lover's contract with this mech. He did not even care that others saw him fussing and his doorwings twitching. Being here for Mirage was far more important than what anyone else might see. 

They'd found Mirage, offline and badly damaged, worse than the last time, tossed about a mile away from the Decepticons' target. How he'd gotten there was, so far, anyone's guess, but there was definitely damage from Ravage. 

Mirage was beginning to rouse and Prowl straightened, his grip on Mirage's hand tightening, his field warm and soothing for his lover to come online to. Mirage would be in pain from the repairs, might not even realize where he was for a moment, but he would know that Prowl was here to look after him.

Yellow optics began to flicker, slow and dim, as the field slowly teeked of being online. The fingers twitched and then Mirage's field turned anxious. 

"You're safe in the Ark, in medbay," Prowl tried to sooth him verbally, stroking his helm. "You took a lot of damage, but nothing Ratchet can't fix."

Mirage finished the boot sequence and the optics finally stopped flickering and held steady, gradually brightening. _Confusion-relief-fear_ and he turned his head, and saw Prowl. 

His entire frame stiffened and he jerked his hand away. "What are you doing?" he yelped, and started struggling to get as far away as he could on the berth. " _Get away from me!_ "

Shock actually froze Prowl for a moment, long enough for Ratchet to come running.

"What?" the medic growled.

"I ... Mirage..." Prowl suddenly stopped and his optics narrowed. " _Are_ you Mirage?"

" _Yes_ I'm Mirage!" the noble spat at him, and started looking around with a franticness rarely seen in him. He teeked close to panicking, but holding himself together with sheer will power. "Jazz. Where is Jazz." He looked at Prowl, who hadn't let go of his hand. "I told you to get away!"

Prowl was genuinely hurt and actually showing it, but he couldn't help it. Despite the confusion and emotional pain, he finally let go of Mirage's hand and commed Jazz. "He's on his way. Why are you objecting to my presence now?"

Mirage finally stilled after Ratchet gave him another warning growl, and stared at Prowl for a long moment. "Oh, no," he said, shaking his head and looking horrified. "Primus below." He held his hand up to his forehelm, pressing down and frowning. "I can't. Not right now."

Prowl heard what was silently said. _This is a security issue._

Despite his hurt, Prowl stilled and allowed the subject to drop, though he did not back up more than a pace. As he watched, Mirage's frown deepened and his optics dimmed in concentration as he retreated inward, ignoring him completely. 

"Heya 'Raj," came Jazz's cheerful greeting, and Mirage's head snapped up to fix on that voice, with _relief_ overtaking his entire frame. "Y'wanted ta see me?" 

"Yes," Mirage said. "As soon as Ratchet will release me." 

_Not in public._

Jazz glanced at Prowl, then at the distance between him and Mirage. "Y'look healthy ta me," he said, gesturing with his helm after getting a nod from Ratchet. "C'mon. You too, Prowler." 

"No," Mirage said quickly. "Not him." 

That made Jazz frown just for a moment before the expression smoothed out. "SpecOps party, old style," he said with a grin. "Catcha later, Prowl?"

"You _will_ inform me of anything tactically relevant," Prowl hid most of his reaction by backing further into his former protocols and locking down the emotional protocols with enough force that it showed in his frame.

"Of course," Jazz cast a worried look between the lovers and a darker one towards his agent that even Prowl could pick up on, then the pair were gone and Prowl moved to follow them, intent on losing himself in his work, catching up on everything he'd let slide that tiny bit for the joors here and there that he'd shared with Mirage. He wasn't going to void the contract, not yet, but privately he had no expectation for it to continue. He couldn't even begin to process how much that hurt.

* * *

Mirage sagged with relief once he and Jazz were locked inside Jazz's office. It was the safest place on the Ark, at least for him, and he finally allowed everything that he'd live through to wash over him as he sank down, suddenly not even having the will to get over to one of the lounges. 

No matter what else, he was back. He was in his frame. Jazz would know what to do.

"All right, spill it," his commander was not in a friendly mood, something that set off alarms in Mirage's processor in areas he was having difficulty accessing.

Mirage nodded. "I haven't been here," he said. "I've been on the Nemesis, in Starscream's frame. I'm not sure how long. The last thing I remember from my frame is a skirmish before I onlined there. I believe Starscream has been here, in my place--I saw my frame, once, it broke in and removed a tracker, but I was too drugged to escape." He looked up, met Jazz's cold gaze, silently pleading.

"Date and location of the last battle you controlled this frame," Jazz was completely tense, and went nearly rigid when told. "That's a full metacycle and some, Raj. You're telling me that _Starscream_ has successfully impersonated my agent, my _SIC_ for a metacycle, right here in the Ark?"

Despite the harsh words and tone, Mirage knew the look well. His commander was backtracking over the metacycle, reviewing small things that now meant something.

"Open," Jazz ordered as his primary interrogation hardline slipped from his wrist.

Mirage didn't hesitate. Every possible hardline port on his frame spiraled open for Jazz, and the locks on his chest plating unlatched as a secondary offering. He felt Jazz dive through the processors and memory banks he still didn't have direct access, and he teeked the growing horror in his commander's field.

"Primus protect us," Jazz whispered in a mixture of shock and horror as he backed out, then focused on Mirage's chest. He paused, organizing his own thoughts, and unlocked his armor. "How much processor access do you have?"

"Very little," Mirage said as his chest opened in answer. "I can still see my HUD, but everything else feels locked out. It's the same thing I felt when I came online in his frame. I believe it passed in a few orns, I hope my familiarity with my own processors will make this transition easier."

"I'm keeping you in Ops lockdown until then," Jazz said more evenly as their sparks came into view and the chambers spiraled open. "Too much risk that he left something nasty. And it'll give you some time to come to terms with some things he did."

The way Prowl had been hovering. _Touching_.

Mirage pushed down the surging anxiety and nodded. "Just tell me," he whispered as their frames came together and the first stages of the merge began. ~How bad is it?~

~You have a lover's contract with Prowl and it is public knowledge,~ Jazz relaxed into the familiar spark and pleasure. ~I don't know how far you went with him. I assume far enough to cause the harm that began when you 'suddenly' rejected Prowl so strongly.~

~Primus,~ Mirage murmured, x-venting and calming in the presence of a familiar spark. Memories of his time at the Nemesis, of being constantly touched and groped and fondled came to the front, explaining the extreme reaction to Prowl. ~I was drugged most of the time, I'm afraid he will come away from this with more intel than I will.~

~I'll run some interference with Prowl for an orn or two until you're ready to face him and break the contract in a way that won't turn him completely in on himself. No doubt Starscream was responsible for the marked increase in issues we had as well,~ Jazz grumbled as the merged deepened a bit. ~Do you know what was used on you well enough to ID it?~

~It felt like a strain of CNE, class IV, but some of the effects were unfamiliar,~ Mirage said as his spark opened fully. ~I would suspect Shockwave was responsible.~ He sighed quietly, touching his helm to Jazz's. ~Megatron is more insane than we thought.~

~Share with me,~ Jazz whispered. ~We need to know for Prowl to adapt strategies to it.~

Mirage showed him the cooing and prodding and the _obsession_ that Megatron had for his Second, obsession that drove him to pump his best flier full of drugs, potentially damage him forever. _Air_ was their advantage over the Autobots, the few surviving Seekers had the power to make or break the war given the right orders. The fantasies that he played out, calling him Starscream in the middle of interfacing.

~We will need to watch them far more closely. Did you get anything on how Starscream feels about this?~

~He said...~ The memories were confused and jumbled, he'd been so deep in a drug haze that he didn't even know if what he'd seen had been real. His own frame looking down at him had been startling enough. ~He said he didn't want any part in it. The frame was repulsed. Jazz--I wanted the _sky_ , it was all I could think about,~ Mirage gave a shuddering moan.

~Seeker coding. It and their high energon needs are the frametype's primary weakness in the long term. What does Starscream think of Megatron?~

~He thinks he's a filthy grounder,~ Mirage said, frowning as he tried to reach back. The questions were helping him focus, but spark memory would never be as crisp as processor memories. ~An ineffective commander. Not worthy of leading the Decepticons. But he recognizes Megatron's strength and ability to keep the Decepticons united. They aren't lovers like we thought.~

~They really are enemies,~ Jazz murmured. ~Why did Starscream join the Decepticons instead of staying out of the war?~

~Scared for his trine,~ Mirage said, remembering the vivid fear he'd felt at the thought of Megatron finding out they'd helped him. ~And he's of the anti-Matrix school of thought. And Megatron wooed him in the beginning.~ Shivers of pleasure began to ripple through their fields.

~Who can _we_ woo, or get rid of, to bring that house of cards crashing down?~ Jazz had to focus hard past the pleasure.

~Soundwave's too loyal to the Decepticons,~ Mirage managed. ~Seekers are too loyal to Starscream and Starscream hates Prime. Nothing will change as long as Megatron is alive and Prime leads the Autobots. Even without Megatron to hold the Decepticons together they'll have us as a common enemy. Soundwave could be a potential ally in such a scenario, but he's just as resistant to the idea of the Prime as Starscream is.~

~The Prime, or _Optimus_ Prime?~ Jazz went to darker places.

~Any, both,~ Mirage said, and he regretted that truth, because in many ways, it would be easier if they only objected to the current Prime. ~It isn't the who, it's the what. They don't believe the Matrix is divine. Its choices have not proved to be adequate to suggest an intelligence operating behind the artifact. Not to them.~

~I can't say I'm inclined to disagree,~ Jazz sighed. ~Doesn't make Megatron any better a choice for not being picked over Sentinel. Does Starscream really want to take over the Decepticons, continue the war?~

~Actually ... no,~ Mirage said, and that was a truth that surprised him. ~Despite all the fighting and posturing, he doesn't _want_ to lead. He wants a leader. Just, not Megatron or a Prime. I'm not even sure if he really leads his own trine.~

They both felt how deeply that floored Jazz, enough that he lost focus to the point of overloading before he intended to.

It pulled Mirage in with him and the two were left gasping as their sparks carefully disengaged from each other, needing the safety of a locked crystal after such an intense energy discharge. "At least," Mirage said as soon as he could talk again, "That was my impression."

"Interesting," Jazz murmured, his processor still spinning at all the implications, but the most important required immediate action and he stood to log into his terminal. "Did you get any specific goals for this mission from Starscream's memories?"

"Just sabotage and spying," Mirage said heavily. "I'd tell you what he did but..." He shook his head. "I don't think it was very well thought out, Megatron just had a shiny new toy and wanted to play with it. One of Shockwave's."

"We _have_ to get that weapon," Jazz murmured as he worked through a hardline plug. "The damage it could do if anyone over there had a processor tuned right or gets lucky is beyond even my imagining. How fit are you to go with me?"

" _Now?_ " Mirage asked with a crack of static through his voice. "Not at all. I can tell I'm in shock, being on the Nemesis when I come out of it would get us both scrapped."

Jazz relaxed just fractionally. "You'll be on Ops lockdown under Hound until I return. Hopefully it hasn't been moved from when your frame last saw it." He glanced up. "Be good for Ratchet. Be _nice_ to Prowl if you see him. I will tell him you weren't the one who signed the contract. He won't try to touch you again without renegotiating it, so he won't ever touch you again. You know he's serious about such things. It's critical that your breakup _looks_ amicable to the crew, no matter how much it'll screw with you both."

Mirage nodded, trying to wrap his processors around that. "From what you saw ... how emotionally involved was he?"

"Have you ever seen Prowl volunteer for anything halfway?" Jazz said grimly. "I've seen the contract, it's a no-fault, no commitment kind, though you were exclusive outside of work, by Prowl's request. Either could break it off with no official repercussions. Legally, Starscream made it very easy for you to end it. Emotionally ... mech, he's been carrying a flame for you for a _long_ time. Breaking it off will crush him. He's already turned the bulk of his emotional protocols off just to cope with what happened in medbay."

"Fragging wonderful," Mirage muttered, as he wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his helm on his knees. He had questions, and suspicions, and he didn't want to answer any of them right now. A shudder went over his frame. Everything Megatron had done to him ... and he might see the scars in his own frame.

"I'm sorry," Jazz said softly, and he meant it. "This is going to be ugly for everyone."

"Yeah," Mirage sighed heavily. "Yeah it really is."

* * *

Prowl had retreated to his office, a place he hadn't needed to use to get away since Mirage had given him the access codes to his quarters, but there was no way he was going there now. Not until he had some idea of what was going on. When the door chimed, he hoped desperately to see Mirage on the other side. Mirage who would hold him and soothe him and promise him that he'd been hit with some kind of ray during battle, or been uploaded with a virus, or was in shock from his damage, or _anything_. 

When he saw Jazz, he still had some amount of hope, until he saw the expression on the commander's face. He sat up straight and faced him. 

Jazz looked at him for a moment before sighing. "All right, ta start with, this isn't gonna be easy for anyone involved. Personally or professionally. You need ta prepare for that."

"I ... see," Prowl quietly settled and forced even more of his emotional protocols off line. If there was a professional issue, it would be dealt with. Then he could have the luxury of trying to deal with the personal. It wasn't natural. It wasn't healthy. Prowl just couldn't bring himself to care anymore. He'd taken a risk and it had burned him again. He was not going to harm the Autobot cause with his weakness again.

When Jazz looked like he didn't know where to start, his concern only grew. 

"Okay," Jazz finally said, and sank down sideways into the chair closest to the desk, dangling his legs over the arm and looking at the ceiling. "So I've hardlined and spark merged wit' Mirage, and he isn't the one you've been with this last metacycle. He hasn't been in his own frame since the battle we found him all scratched up by Ravage." He looked at Prowl. "How ya doin'?"

Prowl was sick was how he was doing, and he was certain it showed. "Who have I been with?"

Jazz leveled his gaze at him. "You've been with Starscream."

He twitched. He knew he did. Power was routed to his processors at the price of his frame as his tac-net demanded more and more resources to try and cope with the exponential cascade of repercussions of that statement.

The world went numb, then dark, then mute as the tac-net grabbed even more resources. Before he could even think his way out of the first cascade the part of the tac-net and processor set that went with it that was in recharge/defrag booted and sucked up the last of Prowl's available energy.

The tiny fragment of awareness that was Prowl's spark mused at how calm it was when everything was like this. The processors it powered were running at a suicidal rate, and he distantly knew that it would deactivate him if the system didn't glitch and shut him down in a hard reboot, but given that he'd just been informed that he had offered his spark to Starscream he wasn't entirely sure deactivation was a bad thing.

He really, _really_ did not want to deal with the consequences of his actions this time. He wasn't entirely sure he could.

_PAIN_

Light. Too-bright.

Sound. Too loud.

More pain cresting in waves too fast to be distinguished until it finally stopped as suddenly as it had begun, leaving him with the distinct sensation of floating.

~Prowl, you in there?~ Ratchet's voice like this was anything but angry. The mech sounded flat out terrified.

~Yes,~ Prowl responded, reluctant to acknowledge the call to take back his frame but unable to resist the implied order. ~I have much work to do.~

~Yeah, well, so do all of us,~ Ratchet said. ~So I'm gonna keep you functioning if it's all the same to you, because you're pretty crucial to us being able to work.~

~Other than the glitch, what damage was done?~ Prowl asked politely, more than slightly hopeful that it would be enough that he could be in stasis for a while. He liked stasis more than he'd ever admit. It was quiet.

~You overclocked yourself pretty bad and fried a few circuits,~ Ratchet said. ~I've locked you out of the damaged sections, which I _think_ are primarily for predictive purposes, but you know how well I can navigate this mess. Your frame is fine, it went into emergency stasis before it could be damaged.~

~Then all the safeties worked as they should,~ Prowl said the only thing he could. ~How long will I be in stasis for repairs?~

There was a longer pause. ~Jazz is pretty insistent that you get up right now and help him deal with fallout, but I'm going to keep you under a little longer. You're up now because I needed to do an online diagnostic.~

~Ratchet, as much as I would like the downtime, Jazz is correct. He and Red Alert can handle the immediate security threats, but we cannot go into battle with any of our current strategies. Everything has been compromised.~

~Fine,~ the medic grumbled, and Prowl knew the displeasure was knowing that the interests of his patient and the interests of his faction were once more at war with each other. ~I'm gonna finish these repairs, so you get a little more downtime. Ready to go under?~

~Yes,~ Prowl answered, then gratefully relaxed into the calmness of spark-only awareness.

* * *

Prowl was online, unhappily so, but he'd managed to keep his focus on work and handling the fallout, instead of his personal life. Dealing with the security consequences was taking up enough of his processor space, at least. 

The next step was informing Prime, and as he sat down across from him, Jazz in the seat next to him, Prowl rerouted yet another emotional thread to a background, subconscious processor. He listened quietly as Jazz explained the entire situation, and Prime's expression didn't change until the end, when he sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. 

"What next?" he said, looking at Prowl.

"Next Jazz will retrieve the weapon if possible, destroy it if not. It is far too dangerous to be allowed to exist," Prowl said simply. "On Cybertron Whiplash will deal with the plans and anything else required to ensure it does not happen again."

"All right," Prime said, looking closely at Prowl. "Did ... Was there ever any clear indication of what he was after? Anything he asked about that was unusual?"

"Unless the goal was to compromise me, no." Prowl somehow managed to remain steady. "He asked almost no questions of a sensitive or unusual nature given the timing and our respective clearances."

"Prime, he wouldn't _need_ to," Jazz reminded them both. "Mirage has the same clearance I do so he can take over when I get slagged on a mission. There is literally _nothing_ he does not have access to just with his ID."

Prime nodded, looking a little overwhelmed. Prowl understood the feeling. They'd had spies and leaks before, but nothing quite this devastating. If this had happened to them in the middle of the war, it would have almost certainly been a killing blow. "We need to get over there, find out what's going on, what they know."

"I'm headed out with Bumblebee as soon as we're done here," Jazz summarized something immense with so few words. "We're going to make all new entrances, all new approaches. At the moment we have to assume that everything we've ever done to access the Nemesis has been compromised. I've already dispatched Cosmos to pass on the news to Whiplash and Elita One so they can handle the fallout on Cybertron, though he doesn't know what he's delivering other than Ops orders."

"Thank you for keeping me informed," Prime said. "I trust you to keep me apprised of further developments, Jazz. How is Mirage?" 

"He has a lot to work through," Jazz said. "His ... _experience_ was unpleasant. I'm keeping him on lockdown for now." He glanced at Prowl. "He will have some unpleasant realizations to work through."

Prowl gave a glance back with something resembling a glare. "I still recommend having the entire events of his absence wiped from his processors and the damage repaird. It will bring him back up to functional status faster and more efficiently than forcing him to process what did not happen to him."

"And we could lose potential intel and insight if we do that," Jazz said. "I can only get so much from a hardline, we don't know what he'll be able to recover on his own. If he wants it wiped later, we'll revisit." He gave Prowl a hard look. "You're not the only one who fell for it. It doesn't get to just go away so we don't have to feel guilty for what we did to him."

"I don't believe you understand what a seal means to a noble," Prowl hissed as his lock on his emotional protocols faltered. " _I_ don't have the luxury of forgetting. _He_ can, _before_ it hurts him more than it has already."

"Don't you even try to tell me I don't understand what that seal meant to him," Jazz said with a low growl. " _You_ aren't the one who had to--" 

" _Stop,_ " Optimus thundered, standing. "Jazz, get to the Nemesis, _find out_ what they're planning. Prowl, you're working with Red Alert to monitor security. Mirage is capable of making this decision on his own, he is aware of his options. For now, stay away from him, and stay away from each other."

"Yes Sir," Prowl responded as he got to his pedes in a surge that spoke all too clearly to his own very delicate grip on himself.

* * *

An orn after the sickening revelation that the Decepticon SIC had been walking around in Mirage's frame for a metacycle and between Prowl, Red Alert, Rewind, Blaster and Jazz they'd managed to scrape together enough changes that they didn't feel completely vulnerable. The emergency issues were taken care of. Now it was down to rebuilding his inventory of plans and plots so Starscream didn't know them all.

He had the first order of business on that count done. He'd committed to a massive restructuring of Autobot priorities wherever possible and the changes of plans where it had not been, such as defending the USA. Since they were not prepared to vacate their current residence or the city they were building, the country that hosted both had to remain a priority.

Still, he was down to the relatively minor things and it was no longer possible to halt all thoughts of what had happened in a personal context and the nagging question of why it had happened.

The obvious answer was that Starscream had hoped to emotionally ensnare him and potentially cripple him with the fallout. It was hard to think that all the time he'd spent with the mech he'd believed to be Mirage had been a trick. They had talked, gotten to know each other, found pastimes they both enjoyed. Shared their pleasure. 

He'd given his valve seal.

He'd offered his _spark_.

It would have been much more effective to have extinguished him right then. So why hadn't Starscream taken the opening he'd offered?

Was it a hope that alive and emotionally compromised Prowl would be more detrimental to the Autobots than if they lost him completely? 

Starscream could have killed most of the Autobot forces if he'd set himself to it, so either he was under orders not to, or he'd decided against it for another reason. Maybe Megatron had wanted an initial trial run of the machine before trying it on a larger scale. 

But if that was the case, why return Mirage, unless it was to traumatize both of them?

Prowl groaned at the building processor ache that resulted from every effort to understand Decepticon tactics since they'd woken up on Earth. The mecha he was tasked to predict were simply impossible to predict, yet he could not stop himself from trying.

_Why was he still functioning?_

He always came back to that, and absently noted it was testament to how far he'd fallen, or come, from his origins that he did not feel any strong regret at the loss of his seal to Mirage's frame, even if Mirage wasn't in charge of it at the time. Which also reminded him how far he was from his Prime's values. He really should be horrified that he'd interfaced with a mech that was not in control of himself and yet it wasn't more than a mild twinge.

How would this change his reactions to Starscream? Could the Seeker have ... _liked_ him?

Snippets of conversation, little things, movements, things he'd said, kept coming back to him, and the confusion of trying to figure out whether it had been dumb luck, a determined plan to cause exactly _this_ , or just more of the random chaos he'd been dealing with since Earth, was making him feel overclocked and sick. 

There were things he couldn't account for. Starscream had said it was a shame he couldn't be in a Seeker frame. What purpose would that have served? Had it been a way to pass time, or ... genuine? Seekers were notoriously exclusive with their lovers, to the point where Prowl was surprised Starscream had even been with him in a different frame. He may not have been created a Praxian, but he'd lived there as one for long enough that he was well aware of the distain Seekers felt towards their ground-bound cousins. It would be more believable that Starscream was willingly with him if he hadn't been in a Praxian frame.

Yet he was, and he had, and....

Prowl clutched his helm and groaned to hold off the pitiful whimper he could feel coming. Intentional or not, Starscream had done a great deal of damage to Prowl's ability to function in the short term. In the long term, well, this was hardly the first time he'd been blindsided by a lover leaving him since he'd had the tac-net installed. He would recover. It would take time, though. Time he did not have in all probability. That they'd had this long was a small miracle due to Decepticon incompetence.

A soft moan escaped his vocalizer, drawing attention to what his hand was doing on his spike cover.

Work. 

He needed to _work_. 

And all he could think about was the thrill of being on his knees, powerful hands on the back of his helm, holding him--

Work.

If only he hadn't been so submissive, if he'd insisted on what he'd desired the most. There was no way Starscream could have hidden his true nature over a hardline or spark merge. He hadn't pressed. It had felt too good to submit, to be what he was intended to be, even if just for a few moments at a time. No matter how many rebuilds, how many lives, how many times he became the one in charge, the truth was he didn't enjoy it. He was good at planning and leading by organization, but he liked to be cared for, given directions. He was, at the end of the orn, there to make someone in power look good by working in the shadows.

But ... would it feel as good if it was Starscream's frame he was kneeling before or spread out under?

**_Stop._ **

He stopped himself right there. _That_ train of thought would lead nowhere good. 

Perhaps a more productive way to think about it would be to consider what Starscream had done to a mech that Prowl had respected and desired from afar for a very long time. Starscream had used that frame for his own pleasure. Starscream had ... _raped_ Mirage. Using Prowl, among others. Raped him, taken Mirage's valve seal, though who had done it he wasn't sure yet. He could only hope it hadn't been Jazz.

Work, focus on work.

He put both of his hands on the desk where he could see them and stared at them as he tried to comprehend what the _point_ of all of it had been. 

He needed more time. Time they might not have. Every nanoklik that went by increased the likelihood of an attack, and the fact that there hadn't been one yet was baffling. Was Megatron lulling them into a false sense of security before striking? 

But what would be the point of that? He had to know the Autobots would use that time to alter their security and make what alterations they could to the Ark's physical structure to prevent an attack. 

And they must have had control over both frames at some point, so _why give Mirage back?_

It kept coming back to Prowl himself, and the conclusion that Starscream had known how badly this would affect him. That was the only good answer. If he'd only believed Mirage prisoner, or even deactivated, he would still be capable of functioning as the Autobot SIC. Right now, he was a mess of jagged, uncertain lines of code that were chasing each other around and around, searching out a _reason_.

 _This_ , the ineffectual mess he was, had to have been the purpose. Yet to take advantage of it they had to move fast, and they _weren't_.

It didn't make sense. 

Nothing made sense. 

* * *

It took Jazz twice as long as it normally would have to get into Megatron's chambers, where Starscream had seen the device. Mirage's unusual failure to return with it made so much more sense now. 

Plenty of things that still _didn't_ make sense, though, like why the 'Cons were being so quiet with all the intel they had to possess. He got to the grate over the quarters and peered around. No Megatron, but...

Well now, this was new.

Starscream was bound to the berth, arms up and legs spread, and didn't look all that coherent.

It explained _so_ much about the lack of assaults, and proved that Megatron had completely lost his once formidable tactical mind.

At least that was good news for the Autobots, and Jazz really didn't care what kind of news it was for Starscream. He dropped down out of the ceiling, landing silently and in a crouch. Starscream didn't even twitch. 

Jazz slowly straightened up, watching the berth carefully as he went over to the storage room, keyed in the access, and finally got his hands on the device. Light, larger than he would have liked, but nothing he couldn't handle. 

As he moved back out into the main berthroom, he froze. Starscream's optics were online, focused on him. 

"So is this the normal reward for a job well done?" Jazz asked lightly.

"Frag off," Starscream hissed.

"Mmm, maybe I should give Prowl and Mirage a little gift first," Jazz's grin turned vicious as he moved to the bound Seeker and slid a now-clawed finger down the center of his cockpit. "Let them know you paid for what you did to them."

Starscream just glared at him with dark optics.

Jazz smiled and pressed, cracking the cockpit glass and kept going.

That made the Seeker hiss and jerk. "Did it even _occur_ to you that killing me will cause Megatron to lose his sole distraction?"

"Mmm, true. He really isn't being very bright," Jazz let the pressure up and turned away. "Have fun, unless you want to defect."

"To what, your _Prime?_ " Starscream sneered. "I'd rather let the rust bucket ruin me."

"Suit yourself," Jazz gave him a backwards wave on the way to the grate with the spark switcher subspaced. "I'm sure the bucket head approves."

When he looked back after fixing the cover back into place, Starscream's optics were dark again.

* * *

Mirage accepted Ratchet's ping because he knew the medic would break down the door otherwise, let him run his scans, and then he was alone in his quarters again, sitting in the dark with his back against the wall. 

Memories were starting to come back, of what his frame had done while he was trapped aboard the Nemesis. And he was trying, so hard, not to think about them. He'd rejected the full physical that Ratchet had tried to conduct, not wanting to _know_. Yet as he continued to sit in his quarters with nothing to do, it was becoming painfully obvious that he would _know_ one way or another soon. Even more, the not-so-small part of him that had absorbed Jazz's lessons on survival and power added to the parts that had survived of his noble upbringing to remind him that knowledge was power and what one did not know was the most likely thing to trap you.

He didn't want to think about it, but it was deeply ingrained in him to learn secrets so he could guard or use them at his discretion, rather than give that power to another.

So slowly, reluctantly, he moved his hands down between his legs, fingers hovering over the valve cover. It moved away on his command and he froze there, staring at the ceiling, fighting back the surge of denial. 

He'd know eventually. It might as well be now rather than later. Now he was alone, and could take the time to cope...

His fingers lowered and touched platelets, then the rim. All were exposed. Used.

A trickle of questioning arousal reached up from the components that had never before given a reaction. Along with it came memories, bright and vivid and hot. He gasped, tore his hand away, and choked down a sob. 

So Prowl had taken his seal. Not even a noble. A _commoner_. 

But that--

That wasn't right. He could feel it in his processors. He didn't know _how_ it wasn't right, just that it wasn't. The desire to _know_ pressed insistently at him and he choked back another sob and tried to remember.

The middle of the event came first, pain, damage _inside_ the valve, a blade he knew too well was set aside and fingers, _his_ fingers, pulled at the remains. Then those fingers pressed inside. Prowl was nowhere to be seen. No one was with him.

_Starscream._

A soft, pained keen rose up from his vocalizer as he reached back down, feeling again just to make himself believe it was gone. Intakes hitched and he curled in on himself as anger welled up. 

He had no _right_.

No right at all.

Yet he had, and Mirage now had to deal with the consequences. The pragmatic part of him said that the loss of his seal was small compared to the fallout of dealing with what Starscream had forced his frame to do with Prowl. Commoner or not, the mech was critical to keeping the Autobot cause alive and the mecha functioning. It wasn't just battle plans. Prowl handled logistics and most of the technical side of political negotiations as well. Jazz had made it painfully clear that Prowl would have to be let down gently to cause the least amount of emotional trauma to the commoner as possible.

But trauma to Mirage? A flare of anger welled up, then died. Trauma to Mirage had already happened. His commander would console him, offer him options, including forgetting and being repaired, but in the end there was no emotional damage that would hinder Mirage's function by the time he was physically ready to go on missions again.

It wasn't _fair_.

And of course he knew that life wasn't fair. He'd lived at war for long enough to know that. But hadn't he given enough of himself? Given his own life and happiness and hope for anything beyond, even if by some miracle there ever _wasn't_ a war. The one thing he'd fought to keep for himself, and it was gone on a whim. 

Cut out, literally. Torn away like nothing. 

He shuddered and closed the cover. In some ways, it was a comfort to know that Prowl hadn't broken the seal. It had been his own hand. He didn't have the right, no more than Prowl did, but at least it had been done by a noble hand.

* * *

Three orns after Mirage had been recovered Prowl was in his office, working. He hadn't had this much to do in hundreds of vorns, but he was grateful for it. It kept his mind off when was going on outside his office, outside of work. Things that even though he accepted them he hadn't come to terms with any of it yet.

Starscream. He'd been Starscream's very willing lover for a metacycle, but hadn't known it.

Stop. Just stop. He forced the threads into a delete spool, though he knew they'd be back. If it was anything like the last time he'd faced such a personal ... tragedy. Yes, for him this was a tragedy. The last time he'd faced such a tragedy it had taken him a decade and a half to become even remotely socially acceptable again. This time was worse in so many ways.

Deleting the thread again was interrupted by a ping at the door.

"Come," Prowl called out, forcing himself to appear as calm and centered as he could manage.

Mirage stepped through the door, hands clasped professionally behind his back as he inclined his helm in greeting. "I thought we should talk," he said, his voice low, smooth, a voice that Prowl had grown addicted to in its cries of ecstasy.

His doorwings quivered despite his best efforts as he inclined his helm and motioned to a chair across from him. "I have been made aware that you were not in control of your frame when we ... when the contract was signed. It is thus null and void. I do not intend to contest that."

"Thank you," Mirage said, and there was clear relief from that statement. He crossed one leg behind the other and sat perfectly straight, hands resting loosely together in his lap. "I have been instructed to make our disengagement seem as amiable as possible, though I see no reason we cannot be civil behind closed doors as well. May I review the contract, please?" he asked, holding his hand out.

Prowl handed it over with an amount of dread he was not expecting. It wasn't the contract itself, but his signature that had him distressed. As far as he knew not even Jazz had dug up so much on him, though the mech could probably read it. It was just nerves, he knew. His greatest shame was not in his designation glyph, not even this one. Though once Mirage had full access to the memories he would no doubt find out that as well.

He could see Mirage making note of his anxiety before turning back to the document and skimming through it. His expression never changed, but when he reached the end, he froze, just for a moment, before he looked up. "This is an impressive history," he said, and then frowned slightly, his gaze turning distant. "We talked about this," he murmured, then quickly corrected, "You and _Starscream_ talked about this."

"Yes," Prowl confirmed. "There were ... things ... in my history I thought you had a right to know before the contract was discussed. Then he asked about what you see."

Mirage took a slow, deep intake to steady himself as he remembered more and more of everything Starscream had uncovered of Prowl's past. "You..." he said, and lifted his hand up to cover his mouth, and murmured a low curse as everything suddenly became so much worse. "You were created a noble."

"Yes," Prowl cringed. "Flipwing of Polyhex."

He might as well have shot Mirage through the spark for the pain that suddenly overtook his entire frame. 

_Betrayal._

"You should have _known_ ," Mirage whispered, shaking his head. "You should have realized something was wrong." His optics met Prowl's. "Why would I have _ever_ done the things he did with you? All those things he said, and you _believed_ him?"

"I was surprised, but yes, I believed him, because I _wanted_ to, very badly," Prowl said quietly, evenly, knowing full well his only defense was very weak. He refused to mention that Jazz knew Mirage far better and Prowl trusted the SpecOps commander to know if one of his agents had been reprogrammed. It was better if the blame remained with him. "The war has done stranger things to mecha."

Mirage nodded once, visibly gathering himself, trying to settle enough to deal with the issue at hand. "You're right," he finally said, and lifted his head again, held at the most regal angle he could manage. "This is hardly the worst tragedy any of us has ever faced. As for this," he set the contract back on the desk, "I thank you for letting me back out, no matter the circumstances. For the sake of keeping this breach of security from the crew at large, I believe we should keep up some appearance of friendship. Playing Sovereign in a public space at least once per decaorn should be sufficient, while gradually increasing the time between encounters."

"Agreed," Prowl allowed a small amount of relief to leak through. "Within a vorn we should be able to stop without significant consequence. I will leave the timing to you."

Mirage inclined his helm in agreement. "I am sorry," he said, "For your part in this. I realize your emotional investment in the relationship was quite high, and I understand better now what it must have meant for someone like you to be with me. You must be quite unsettled."

"Thank you," Prowl inclined his helm, his doorwings betraying just how much more than unsettled he really was. "I am trusting you to hold in confidence what I believed I had told you in confidence. I would prefer it not end up in my file if it is not already there."

"I cannot promise anything," Mirage said as he stood. "Jazz scanned my processors before I had total access to them again. I will attempt to discern what he knows without revealing anything, and proceed as I deem appropriate in the best interests of your privacy. I do believe that a personal request after the professionalism, discretion and decency you have shown me is deserved."

"Thank you," Prowl inclined both helm and doorwings. "How many of Starscream's thoughts and reasons have you been able to access?"

"My energy has been focused on recovering his actions," Mirage admitted. "But if this switch follows the same pattern as the last one, I believe I will be able to access reasoning and personality, to some extent." He cocked his head at Prowl. "Is there anything specifically you would like me to attempt to ascertain?"

"Why he chose to pursue the relationship with me," Prowl said with quiet, disturbed intensity. "I cannot make any tactical sense of it. If you can determine why, and why he did not deactivate me when I offered my spark, it would assist my recovery and my planning a great deal."

Mirage's armor twitched a little but he nodded smoothly. "Reasoning may not be quite so clear in my frame as his, but I will let you know any conclusions I come to. Thank you for your cooperation in this unpleasant matter, Prowl, I would not have expected it from someone of your background."

"We are both Autobots. That must come before anything else," Prowl replied evenly, though his doorwings betrayed that he recognized and accepted the compliment. "I have no wish to do more damage than has already been caused." He hesitated. "I made my choices. I will not intentionally punish another for what I willfully did. You are not at fault for my choices, or for what _he_ did with your frame."

Mirage shifted, stilled, glanced down and to the side as a small frown came over his features. "Indeed," he murmured. "I--" He shook his head. "The whole time I was over there, I kept myself calm with the promise that everything being done to me wasn't really to _me_. Coming back to this, it's like ... it might as well have been me over there the whole time."

"I am sorry for my part in this," Prowl murmured, his own gaze fixed firmly on his desk. "If you have questions as you recover memories, I will answer as best I can. If you choose to wipe and repair everything, I will do all I can to mitigate the crew response."

"Thank you," Mirage said quietly, then shook himself, tilted his helm in farewell, and left.

* * *

The next time his office door opened, Jazz strolled through, and set something down in the middle of his desk. Polished metal, clearly of Shockwave's design, surprisingly innocuous looking. He touched one of the two identical obsidian panels. "This is it?" 

Jazz nodded once. "This is it. Just got back, thought y' should see it first."

"Did you manage to retrieve the instructions or any notes for Wheeljack and the science team?" Prowl continued to stare at the source of so much grief.

"Nah, this was all that was there," Jazz said. "There's somethin' else, mech." Jazz was giving him a calculated look. "Wouldn' tell ya if it weren't of tactical significance. It was bein' kept in Megatron's quarters, an' I was seen takin' it."

"By whom?" Prowl's barely-visible tactical excitement dimmed significantly.

Jazz waited a moment, sighed, and reached up to rub one of his sensor horns. "Right, please don't crash on me again. Ratchet'll strip me town to my wires if ya do. Starscream was in there. I didn't think he was online, or at least I didn't think he'd be much aware of anything even if he was." Jazz's visor glinted dangerously. "'Least he's gettin' his due."

One optic ridge lifted as doorwings lifted fractionally. Even if Prowl personally doubted it was enough, for very unreasonable personal reasons he wanted to know _everything_. "Details."

Jazz frowned at him and didn't look happy with the request. "Prowl..." 

" _Details._ " Prowl's engine gave a sharp rev, quickly stifled. 

Jazz looked at him another moment, then shrugged carelessly. "Yea all righ'. Megatron's keepin' him tied to his berth, looks like he's been well worked over from the inside out. _Thoroughly_ plowed, if y' get my drift. Doubt that frame's been outside. Almost brought ya his spark but he pointed out that he's keepin' Megatron well entertained, so we might as well take advantage of the crazy while it lasts."

"Agreed," Prowl purred, relieved beyond measure to know why the Decepticons hadn't moved. They likely didn't have the intel if Starscream was being used like that. His attention turned back to the device on his desk, calculating the odds of how to use it. "Between Earth and Cybertron, how many mecha do we have that can fake being Decepticons for a few orns? Agents or not."

Jazz thought it over for a few moments. "I'd say five strong candidates, dependin' on who they were switched with. Me, Whiplash, Drift, Springer, and Mirage. 'Raj isn't good for it for a while, though. You would do well if you were swapped with someone appropriate. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe could likely manage it as well." He cocked his head at Prowl. "I asked Screamer if he'd like to defect. He said he'd rather let Megatron have him instead of swearing to a Prime. Mirage gathered that what Starscream objects to is the Matrix itself, not necessarily the Autobots as a whole. It's messy and makes my wires twitch ta think about but ... there might be options there."

"Indeed," Prowl agreed, adding that to his calculations as he continued to lightly finger the spark swapper. "Perhaps Mirage will be able to decipher what it is he wants in a leader to add to what he doesn't want. For the Seekers to defect would be worth a great deal. It may also be possible to do to the Decepticons what they should have done to us. A few key players changed, even for only a few orns, could shatter their already limited ability to function as a cohesive force. In addition, please put Shockwave at the very top of the removal queue and the plans for this deleted. We cannot afford to have this device replicated."

"Agreed," Jazz said, humming thoughtfully. "Ta be honest with ya, I'd rather see Screamer gray and rusted instead of allied. If we assume he knows everything Mirage does, he knows we're not exactly the blind loyal morons they've painted us as this whole time. He knows there are contingencies. We could use that to trick him into aligning with a false third faction, split the 'Cons in two, and then take 'em _all_ out."

Prowl's engine purred deep and hard. "I like that idea a great deal. We do have an opening like no other right now, or at least once Megatron bores of him as a plaything. I do not believe it would be difficult to convince him that I became addicted to the attention enough to look past who it was once the shock passed. His ego would make it difficult for him to refuse the idea."

Jazz's grin was vicious, his purr was even more so. "Now you're speakin' my language."


	6. Gone Too Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic rape, violence and death in this ch.

Every thrust made his tanks churn with disgust.

Every grunt deepened his hate and rage.

Every sticky jet of transfluid strengthened his resolve.

And Starscream was _learning_. The spy had left him with some valuable tricks, and he'd had nothing to do but figure them out. It had taken longer than he would have liked, but he'd figured out how to duplicate the microtransformations, hacked his own code to force the sequences into circuits that hadn't been programmed to transform. He had his hands free, finally, and it took all his self-control to lay there and wait instead of just breaking free. That was another thing the spy had taught him: there was value, occasionally, in patience and stealth. 

It didn't take long to get the giant hunched over him, heaving his bulk against Starscream's frame. He hadn't even noticed that the chains were only resting on his Second's wrists. Very slowly, very carefully, Starscream moved his arms down, letting his frame run on the auto reaction sequences that Mirage had put into place. 

Despite his size, Megatron had very little spare subspace, something that not everyone realized about him. But Starscream knew, and he knew he could reach into it. He just had to hope that he wasn't noticed. In that he had a major advantage. Not just in Megatron being lost in overload, but that the mech wasn't coded on any level to notice such small, subtle movements. Megatron's reality was all about gauging a full opponent, not noticing a pickpocket.

He felt it, the energon blade he knew Megatron kept there. His fingers wrapped around the hilt and then he had to freeze when Megatron's mouth found his and a hand groped its way up his cockpit, up to his shoulder. If the giant felt his arm wasn't where it was supposed to be--

But the hand went to his shoulder vent instead and Megatron's assaulted his mouth and Starscream allowed it as the rolling thrusts picked back up.

He carefully drew his arm back, blade in hand, and activated it. With a single motion he slashed it across the giant's throat, severing energon, lubricant, coolant and neural lines all at once, though he didn't have the angle or strength to decapitate in one blow like this. 

Megatron's roar was earth-shaking and the hand on his shoulder vent tightened so hard that the metal bent and Starscream screeched as it washed out his sensor net with the damage reports. 

" _Starscream!_ " Megatron bellowed, and backhanded him across the face as he struggled to push himself up. Combat repair systems installed as a gladiator closed off all the affected lines quickly, but not before it was a noticeable loss. It would save Megatron if a medic was nearby, which they always were in the arenas, but it would also drop him into stasis quickly from the loss of energy flow. He'd loose the match, but not his life.

The blade slashed again, cutting deeper in the left side and sending a new torrent of fluids down on the Seeker.

A grunt and Megatron's full weight crumpled down onto him. Starscream snarled and drove the blade in a third time. "Told you I'd kill you," he hissed, struggling to work his way out from under the once-proud warlord as the outer edges of his plating began to lose their healthy sheen and turn a dull death-gray. "You will _never_ touch me again, Megatron."

"You will never lead," Megatron grated out with a raspy voice as his optics flickered.

"But I _did_ win," Starscream snarled as he pushed Megatron over and dug the blade into his chest, hacking his way through so he could _watch_ the spark as it guttered. "Ever think it would be me? You should have."

"You aren't fit to kill me," Megatron snarled weakly as he tried to get his limbs to move and fend off the attack.

"And you aren't fit to frag me so I guess we'll both have to be disappointed," Starscream hissed back. Megatron still had sufficient size and strength to be a threat even with this much energon lost, but he was strong too, and he got into the chest, got the blade to the crystal. It cracked easily against a weapon designed to shatter it, but instead of guttering Megatron's deep red spark lashed out, crawling up the blade and coiled around Starscream's hand even as the frame it powered began to spasm and faded all the faster.

Starscream hissed and shrieked and dropped the blade as he scrambled back, clawing at the light. "Die, just _die!_ " he screamed. "Frag you, _die!_ "

"Not done," Megatron gasped with the last of his frame's energy. His spark continued to reach out for Starscream, bright, determined and fierce.

"Yes. You. _ARE!_ " Starscream screamed as his thrusters fired in a panic, sending him rocketing up and then back, striking the ceiling with his wings before slamming into the wall and crumpling down, staring.

He'd never seen anything like it, and in the back of his processors he wondered if the strange behavior of the spark meant that the frame he knew as Megatron hadn't been the first to house it. Even with the warlord's frame dead and gray, it was still spilling out, reaching for him as it grew in size and tumbled from its host, searching for a new one.

~Not done.~ Megatron's voice echoed in his processors. It was weaker than before, but far angrier.

The orb continued to grow and Starscream watched in horrified fascination as the spark mimicked the lifecycle of a star at its end stages. It was growing larger, still struggling to crawl towards him, the leaders reaching out well ahead of the mass.

He was backed up as far against the wall as he could get and they were almost to him. :: _SKYWARP!_ ::

The black Seeker was next to him in an instant. "Star--oh, _what_ \--"

Starscream grabbed him. "Outside, _outside!_ " 

And then they were outside in the dark sky, surrounded by stars and silence, as Starscream clutched his trinemate and tried to stay focused. It was hard with Skywarp slowly starting to panic. 

" _What the frag was that?_ " 

"Go back," Starscream gasped. "Have to make sure."

"Make sure of what?" Skywarp demanded, still hovering over the sea above the Nemesis. "What _was_ that?"

"I--think it's Megatron's spark," Starscream said. _Don't-look-at-the-sky-don't-look-at-the-sky-don't-look-at-the-sky._ "He should be _dead_. Go back, be ready to jump if it's still there. It's looking for a frame."

Skywarp nodded, prepped his escape protocols for going into a hotzone and jumped to Megatron's quarters. The walls were scorched unevenly, patterns of curving lines not unlike looking at a spark were laced on all the surfaces, including the still, death-gray frame of their former leader.

"I think it's gone," Skywarp murmured, twitchy for having hotzone protocols active.

Starscream shuddered as he looked around, searching for any trace of the red light, any hint that it might still be _seeking_. 

But the room was still, silent, nothing moved. Finally he turned to Skywarp. "Need the sky."

The black Seeker nodded and they were immediately above the sea once more. "Do you have thrusters?"

Starscream engaged them in response, moments before the sonic boom cracked open the sky and Thundercracker transformed in front of them, grabbing Skywarp and pulling him away from Starscream before grabbing the Air Commander's shoulders and shaking him. "What did you do?" he shouted. 

"Get off me," Starscream snarled, twisting away. 

"...Megatron's dead," Skywarp said, slowly. 

"He-- _what?_ " Thundercracker said, whirling on his mate.

"He's dead," Starscream said, staring at the stars and letting the _peace_ of the open sky wash through him. "I killed him."

Thundercracker was still for a very long half klik as he processed that.

"So ... now what?" the blue Seeker asked.

"I don't know," Starscream sighed, wrapping his arms around himself and hovering. "We should keep it quiet as long as we can. There will be in-fighting. The Autobots will take advantage."

"They will," Thundercracker agreed evenly. "We'll need Soundwave and Shockwave's support, and Scrapper's, if we want to retain control of the Decepticons." He paused. "Or we can take those loyal to you and focus on rebuilding Cybertron. Let the Decepticons and Autobots squabble over Earth."

"If we do that we'll still have to deal with Shockwave," Starscream murmured, and then his optics narrowed dangerously. "Have a score to settle with him anyway." 

Skywarp hovered anxiously nearby, flicking in and out of visibility as he jumped microns through the air, back and forth, to help his systems come down off the hotzone protocols without shocking them with an immediate cut. "But--whatever we do--it won't be--tonight--right?" 

Thundercracker and Starscream looked at him. 

Skywarp glowered back. "Hasn't been all three in forever," he grumbled. 

His trinemates' optics brightened in realization. Their own roles within their trine had been forced to switch during the war, but Skywarp had always been their Action, and he felt disruption to their trine more vividly than the other two could anymore.

"No, it won't be tonight," Thundercracker insisted, almost daring Starscream to override him. "Tonight we need to patch Starscream up," he glanced at their most volatile member. "And reconnect."

Skywarp looked almost pleadingly at Starscream, who nodded, to the teleporter's visible relief. Before either of his trinemates could say otherwise, he grabbed their wrists and a series of jumps later and they were on top of a remote mountain in one of the humans' organic preservation areas. For them, it just meant that human presence was mercifully limited.

"Come," Thundercracker offered his hand to Starscream. "Let's repair you and recharge together as a trine should."

Starscream eyed it for a moment, then accepted, moments before Skywarp pounced him from behind in a tight hug. Starscream growled at him but it did nothing to dislodge the other and they settled quickly into the repairs. Patching Starscream up after an altercation with Megatron was nothing new, and they'd handled far worse than the relatively minor dents covering him right now. His shoulder vent was the worst of it, and the plating on his wings would need time to heal where it had been gouged, but overall, the damage wasn't bad. 

"Did he..." Skywarp murmured at one point. "Y'know. Again?" 

"Yeah," Starscream sighed, helm resting on his arms, which were crossed over his knees as the other two smoothed out the hard, protective finish on his wings. "Told him if he did I'd kill him. And he did." 

"Grounders," Skywarp said with a horrified shudder.

"Never again," Thundercracker rumbled, stroking a wing each of Starscream and Skywarp. "Never again will a grounder touch you. We should never have accepted it in the first place."

"He was insane, he would have killed you both," Starscream said as he turned around to huddle up with them, and tried not to think about one grounder who he wasn't quite sure he would mind touching him. He met Thundercracker's optics. "Try to tell me you could have done anything that would have put Skywarp at risk."

"The three of us, together we're strong. A trine is strong," Thundercracker didn't actually refute the statement. "It was wrong to abandon you to him."

"Well, at least you can admit it when you're wrong," Starscream said with a smirk as Skywarp snuggled up against his cockpit. "Better than I can do."

Thundercracker gave him a soft smile, a look of warmth that had been missing for a terribly long time, and pressed close. Between him and Skywarp, their Vision was shielded completely and would remain so well past dawn.

* * *

Halfway through the second night of being secluded away on their mountain, and Starscream still hadn't been able to fall into recharge. He was calm, relaxed, warm, utterly content to stay between his trinemates, but he couldn't stop thinking. 

Things were going to change, drastically, from here on out. There would be no avoiding it. 

He needed to talk to Prowl. He knew the Autobots could tear them apart without Megatron, and the sooner they tried to work out any kind of agreement, the better. So he reached back into his memory, pulled out a comm frequency he'd never used in this frame, and pinged it. He was both surprised and not when it was answered immediately.

::Yes, Starscream?:: Prowl's tone was completely level. A voice Starscream knew well from countless vorns of listening to Autobot battlefield comms and the less common peace negotiations with the upper echelons of the Autobot army. He hadn't heard it often when he'd been in Mirage's frame, though. It was the voice for war. 

At least it helped confirm that the Autobots were indeed aware of what had happened. He took a moment to curse Megatron's designation--the fool should have kept Mirage in stasis as they'd planned. 

To Prowl, he simply said, ::We should meet.::

There was a pause, almost too long of one given the processor speed on the other end. ::To what end?::

There was a tiny flicker in that steady voice, a hit of uncertainty, but also, possibly, of hope.

Starscream fought back an annoyed sigh. ::There needs to be an _end?_ :: he said. ::Something has happened that requires discussion and I don't trust it to comm lines.::

::Given we are still on opposing sides of a war, yes, there does need to be a good reason for us to meet without attempting to disable each other,:: Prowl pointed out reasonably. ::Where and when?::

::Sooner rather than later,:: Starscream said. ::And given your disability, it should be somewhere close to your Ark but sufficiently removed. Can you reach this location in a groon?:: He pinged a set of coordinates.

::Affirmative,:: Prowl responded smoothly. ::Who else is coming?::

::No one that _I'm_ aware of,:: Starscream said as he carefully untangled from his wingmates. Skywarp gave an unhappy murmur and Starscream soothed him. Thundercracker's optics came online, lighting Skywarp's face with the red light.

::Understood,:: Prowl responded. ::I will come alone.:: With that the comm line closed.

Thundercracker rumbled, something between a question and a command, so telling of the way the war had broken what they were meant to be. "Need to fly," Starscream said. "I'm going to lap the planet, and then I'll be back, I promise."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Skywarp asked. 

"Rather be alone," Starscream said. "Just need to feel wind. And go on, tell me you haven't been wanting to frag each other senseless all night." 

Thundercracker rumbled in a completely different way. "Well in that case," he said, "Get going." 

Starscream grinned at him as he stood up before jumping into the air and transforming, rocketing into the night. 

It took almost no time at all to reach the coordinates, a secluded little spot in the middle of the pine forests that dotted the region the Ark was in. As far as he could tell, Prowl wasn't there yet, so he transformed, landed up on a rocky outcrop that was taller than the Praxian, and waited. 

True to the mech's word, the black and white police car drove up in just under eight breems and transformed to the taunt Praxian frame that settled to stand, looking up at Starscream. "What has happened?" Prowl asked politely.

Starscream narrowed his optics slightly. "That's all I get?" he asked, and he felt stripped to his protoform without his weapons. "Not even a hello?"

"We are enemy combatants, last I checked," Prowl pointed out. "However. Hello Starscream. I see you have extracted yourself from Megatron's berth."

Starscream sneered at him. "Oh you heard about my welcome home party, did you?" He lifted his wings in a shrug. "I've shared nicer berths in my time." He hummed. "One of them very recently. All right, listen, I'm telling this to _you_ , not your damnable Prime. How much can I trust that it won't make it back to him?"

Prowl cocked his helm slightly as his doorwings flitted with curiosity and interest that, from a Seeker at least, would have been flirting. "He will not learn from me anything it is not critical for him to know."

"You think I'd be here without something _critical?_ " Starscream asked, his own wings flicking in response. A moment of silent debate. "The Decepticons don't even know this, and I'm going to keep it like that for as long as I can, but I can't promise anything. I don't want this to end with all of us in the scrapheap, and that's the _only_ reason I'm here, all right?" But his wings betrayed him, a cautious tilt that spoke of more.

"I understand," Prowl's optics focused on those wings. "As you are well aware, not all matters of critical importance are critical for _the Prime_ to know." He paused, regarding Starscream, and spoke what came to his processors. "You finally did it. You deactivated Megatron."

"He had it coming," Starscream bit off with a shudder as he remembered the creeping red light. "Without him the Decepticons are going to break and scatter. We'll be vulnerable, and you know that." He crouched down. "I can control the Seekers, and Soundwave, and I'm prepared to talk. But _not_ with your Prime."

"With me." Prowl made it a statement rather than the question that by rights it should have been. "What of Jazz?"

"Only if you insist on it," Starscream said, frowning. "I think he might not care for me right at this exact moment."

"Yet you do not seem to believe that I do not care for you at this moment for the exact same reasons?" Prowl lifted an optic ridge. "You crossed me far more than him. Jazz does not need to be directly involved. However, if you intend anything more than to negotiate favorable terms of surrender for your Seekers, I will need his support."

Starscream nodded once in understanding, and Primus damn him if this wasn't harder than he'd thought it was going to be. "So you _don't_ care for me," he said, half asked, very carefully.

Prowl expelled a heavy gust of air. "If I were as angry as I should be, you wouldn't have realized you were deactivated until your frame hit the ground." His ice blue optics locked onto Starscream's crimson pair. "Why didn't you deactivate me when I offered my spark?"

Starscream scoffed. "Everything you could ask me right now, and it's _that?_ " 

"Yes." Prowl said firmly, his doorwings lifting in a silent statement that the answer would make or break Starscream's efforts, and likely his continued functioning.

Starscream frowned, silent for a long time. "...It didn't occur to me."

Prowl's doorwings flared, then flicked in genuine surprise that was written in every line of his frame. "Your spark and Mirage's processors ... and it didn't occur to you?" He made a visible effort to collect himself. "Then what about now?"

"I was rather focused on better things than suddenly being in berth with a gray frame, wasn't I?" Starscream said dryly, wings going up defensively. "If I was thinking about crushing your spark chamber now, it would be _done_ already. And I wouldn't have come unarmed." He held his arms up, demonstrating the lack of his null rays. "I'm _trying_ to get what's left of my people out of this pointless war, and _you're_ my option."

Prowl accepted it with a slight nod. "What terms do you wish?"

"We won't swear loyalty to your Prime," Starscream said. "Or _any_ Prime. Beyond that, I'm not qualified to speak for my trine, not without discussing it with them first." He peered at Prowl, and then jumped down off the outcropping, landing in a crouch. He stood slowly, his full height just over Prowl's. The Praxian's field teeked bright and easy to read, telling what his frame did not.

Prowl _wanted_ him. Oh, he was very good at controlling his actions, but there was no mistaking his field. It was hungry, longing for what it had been missing in the orns since Starscream had left Mirage's frame.

"Are you willing to fight against current Decepticons for your freedom?" Prowl asked calmly.

"The ones who won't stand down," Starscream said, and his field answered, just as hot. "Are you willing to fight against any Autobots who won't follow a Primeless course?"

"If that produces the highest probability of a lasting peace, yes," Prowl responded, honest, but only just containing a rev of his engine as their fields played against each other. "I am loyal to a future of equality and opportunity."

"Good," Starscream said, wings lifting up, making himself appear bigger, taller, more imposing ... but not hostile. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes," Prowl canted his doorwings in openness to just about anything.

Starscream lifted his hand, and looked almost unsettled as he brushed his knuckles against Prowl's jaw. "Do you believe in Primus?" he murmured, taking in how the Praxian who wasn't a real Praxian leaned into the touch.

"No," Prowl said quietly, honestly. "I believe there is a source for sparks that goes beyond our current understanding of science, but I do not believe in Primus as presented."

Starscream hummed. "Finally some sense to be found within your ranks," he said, as the brush turned into something more of a caress. "I meant what I said, you know."

"You have said many things," Prowl's optics dimmed with pleasure. "Which do you mean?"

A quiet chuckle came with an anxious flick of the Seeker's wings. "You'll have to figure it out," Starscream said, and leaned in so their lips were brushing. "You have an amazing mind."

Any response Prowl may have wished to voice was lost to the soft moan as he closed the fractional distance to complete the kiss. Desire flared again in the grounder's field as white hands came up to stroke along Starscream's cockpit to his chest vents.

Starscream shook and grabbed the wrists, stopping Prowl's hands. "You're a _grounder_ ," he said in quiet despair.

"I wasn't always," Prowl shivered. "I can have my wings back, if I'm willing to pay the price."

Starscream shivered. He didn't know if it was lingering from his time spent in Mirage's frame, if it was real, if it would go away ... but he _wanted_. 

Maybe coming here hadn't been such a good idea. 

"Back up," he said, making his decision. He could deal with what it _meant_ later. "Turn around, against the cliff."

There was no hesitation from Prowl. He moved with the smooth, precise self control he was famous for and Starscream now knew came from far too much martial arts training. His valve cover was already open when he spread his legs, his arms braced against the rock face. Facing Starscream, those doorwings were positively quivering with anticipation.

Starscream groaned as he came up against him, hands going to them and gripping the top, over sensor panels that he knew _so_ well. "This doesn't _mean_ anything," he said, as his spike cover unlatched and slid back, grinding his pelvis to Prowl's aft. Even to him, the words sounded hollow. 

"Only shared pleasure, because we want it this orn," Prowl ground back, shameless now as he had been before Mirage. "I'm slick for you," he moaned softly, almost pleading.

"You're _always_ slick for me," Starscream said, x-venting harshly against Prowl's helm. His spike extended, hard and pressed between them, before he dipped his frame down. He grabbed Prowl's hips, pushed between the spread legs, sheathing himself in a single stroke that proved just how eager Prowl was. Slick, hot and so very tight, it rippled and squeezed, trying to keep Starscream inside. The valve walls undulated around him, adding that much more sensation to the heavy rev of Prowl's engine.

Starscream cut off his groan and his fingers clenched down on Prowl's armor. A hard, demanding thrust--oh, he _knew_ what Prowl liked--into the Praxian frame, and a mix of _thrill_ and _disbelief_ and even _horror_ filled him. 

But mostly thrill. Thrill to be controlling Prowl in his own frame, even as much as he knew the tactician could turn around and have him pinned in less than a klik. In the air, Starscream had the advantage, but on the ground against _this_ mech, he wouldn't stand a chance. Yet here they were, Prowl so willingly, even eagerly submissive to him. Prowl, who had every advantage in training, the war, everything in this moment, was moaning and pressing back, wanting _Starscream's_ spike so much he was mumbling praise and pleas for the Seeker to take him deep and hard and fill him to dripping.

And it was so easy to just let go and do just that, _finally_ sinking into this lover as himself. He never let go completely, he wasn't a _complete_ fool, although at the moment he was sure there were plenty who would say otherwise. 

But it felt amazingly good, so why not. 

"This is insane," he moaned, pressing his mouth to Prowl's neck, biting at the cables.

Prowl arched and pressed into the almost pain, arousal and sharp pleasure flaring his field deep into Starscream. "No. The war was insane. This is _good_."

"A Seeker--" Starscream grunted, pushed, "--fragging a grounder--that was once a prop jet--" He held Prowl's doorwings tight in his hands, using them for leverage as he pulled, "--would have been insane-- _before_ the war." He groaned as Prowl worked around his spike, gasping harshly when his lover's hips bucked back onto him. "But it's good, too."

Prowl only moaned, grunting as each powerful thrust rocked his entire frame. Every movement, every squeeze and ripple was calculated to bring Starscream to a hard overload as quickly as possible. And Starscream wasn't at all inclined to try to fight against the charge. His hand pushed up, onto Prowl's shoulder, and then around to his chest to hold the tactician tight against him. The other stayed in place, working at the primary sensory panel on the top edge of the doorwing, and he cried out as he overloaded, deep inside Prowl's frame. 

Prowl's overload was still crackling, locking the mech's frame when Starscream regained enough awareness to notice. The energy of it danced across his spike as it was squeezed and worked by a valve that honestly desired to please.

Harsh x-vents. Starscream tightened his grip. "Well you didn't shoot me at your best opportunity, so I suppose that's a good sign," he ground out with hard, precise thrusts to help draw out his lover's pleasure. He hummed deeply, face against Prowl's neck and still holding the other tight in his arms when the Praxian finally came down, lax in his arms.

"True," Prowl murmured, purring in contentment to be filled with spike, transfluid and lubricant running down his legs and pinned to the rock. His armor loosened against Starscream, allowing claws that had ended many Autobot lives that much closer to vital components. "I would like to become accustomed to this, to spending time with you."

That just seemed too easy, Starscream mused. "Really now," he said, voice low. "Tell me, how is Mirage?"

"Furious, horrified his seal is gone, far more horrified I touched him," Prowl murmured, his good mood dimming. "And now he knows far too much about me. Despite it, I am inclined to thank you for breaking that fixation I had."

"I was _supposed_ to get you addicted and then cut off your supply and hope for catastrophic tactical failure," Starscream said. "Not doing much for cutting off the supply, I'll admit."

Prowl chuckled, but it wasn't an amused sound. Strangely, there was something like approval in his field. "Oh, you left a catastrophic tactical _and security_ failure in your wake, and left me very close to shutting down. But Mirage wasn't the first to leave me. The pain just makes me focus on work that much more. Eventually it sorts itself out." He pressed back against Starscream's frame and rubbed. "Though I admit, this is the first time recovering from being left included starting with someone else."

Starscream's engines rumbled as he rubbed back, heat pooling in his thrusters. "If Megatron hadn't been such a fool we would have taken advantage of the security failure." He gave an amused hum. "You've probably changed all the locks by now. It's lucky for us both that he went as insane as he did."

"Yes," Prowl purred, aroused by the physical response. He cycled his valve calipers and lining, questioning if Starscream wanted more. "And now he is gone and it is up to us what the future of our race will be."

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves," Starscream said, strengthening his grip around Prowl's frame as his hips rocked. "First things first." He shoved up. "Ready for more so soon?"

"Very ready," Prowl moaned without shame or reservation, and they didn't talk after that. 

* * *

Starscream flew back to his trine immediately after leaving Prowl, processor racing and jumbled, frame feeling bright and tingling from the multiple overloads. As he landed, he knew they could teek the lightened mood. 

"Good flight then," Skywarp mumbled, drawing Starscream into their huddle. 

"Very," Starscream said, gratefully snuggling back up with them.

"Who'd you frag?" Thundercracker asked sleepily as they all settled into a slightly new arrangement to protect their Vision.

Starscream's wings tensed with irritation. "I am _not_ that obvious," he snapped. 

"Y'kinda are, Screamer," Skywarp said with a badly-stifled laugh. 

Starscream huffed. "It's a long story."

"Skyfire?" Thundercracker gave the only guess he had, given he knew it couldn't have been a Decepticon if Starscream was this edgy. "Or a new story?"

"New story," Starscream sighed. "Honestly. That Primus-blinded oaf? _Please._ But when I say long story, I mean it. You've both gotta listen the whole way through without yelling. I wouldn't even _tell_ you if it weren't for the fact that it might be leading to some kind of peaceful solution right now."

That got both his trinemate's attention.

"Peace ... you've got some kind of hook into the 'Bots for peace?" Thundercracker's wings went almost straight up in shock. "Deal. You talk, we'll be silent until the end."

Starscream raised a skeptical wing at him. "Even if I tell you I fragged Prowl."

Shock visibly floored both trinesmates, and Skywarp opened his mouth only to shut it with a hard snap. Thundercracker nodded, but the horror in his field was harsh.

Starscream waited a moment, scowling, but he understood the reaction. He could practically hear the glyph--a deepest insult--echoing in the air between them. 

_Praxian._

But they were still here, and still silent, so that was at least showing that they were going listen. "Starts just over a metacycle ago," he said. "Shockwave made a new toy, one that switches two sparks between their frames, and when I protested the idiocy of Megatron's idea to use it on an Autobot, the giant metal moron decided that _I_ should be the one to be swapped. And so for most of that metacycle I was in Mirage's frame on the Ark." He looked at Skywarp. "That wasn't me you helped get out to the shoreline. That was Mirage." 

Skywarp cringed, his wings flaring and fluttering in distress that he hadn't recognized his own trinemate as a fake. Thundercracker reached out to soothe him, stroking the agitated Action until he settled enough to pay attention again. Not that Thundercracker was any less distressed, but he knew how to cope better. Eventually both sets of red optics were focused on Starscream again.

Starscream hummed his satisfaction with the response. "If it makes you feel any better, none of the Autobumblers could tell it was me, either." He tucked his helm in against Thundercracker and tried to decide where exactly to start. "I could tell that Prowl has been carrying a flame for Mirage for a while, so I decided to see what I could do with it. I meant to get him hooked and then break his spark, but..." He hesitated. "He isn't what we thought." And he told them everything he'd learned about Prowl and his history, the truth beneath the Autobots' apparent cohesion and loyalty to their Prime, the fact that there might be Autobots willing to abandon the blind, reckless loyalty to a parasitic artifact that had already shown itself capable of destroying their planet. 

He told them everything he'd seen in Mirage's frame, everything he'd done, what he'd come back to find, what had finally snapped, and finally, what he'd done with Prowl the night before, and why. By the time he finished, it was close to dusk again and both his trinemates were struggling to process what they'd heard. Nearly a joor passed before Thundercracker spoke, his wings and field betraying his agitation, horror, distress and a hint of hope he was afraid of.

"What price is too high to get his wings back in the war, but he might pay now?" Thundercracker asked quietly.

"His tac-net," Starscream said, frowning and unsettled. The tac-net had given Prowl the _mind_ that he found himself so enthralled by. Would he even be the same mech without it? It didn't seem likely.

"At least he's not really a Praxian," Skywarp said, to point out the very small bright side of the whole thing.

Thundercracker was quiet for a long time as he continued to mull what he'd been told. "Do you intend to keep him?" he eventually asked.

"I don't even know if I can _trust_ him," Starscream said, rolling his optics. "I can tell he wants me but that mech would put his own creation in the line of fire if it was tactically necessary to win the war. He shuts off when he's working, _nothing_ gets in between him and a mission."

"So we have everything to lose, and what to gain?" Thundercracker asked. "What is Prowl offering for our cooperation?"

"Talks without the Prime's knowledge, and the willingness to fight against any Autobots who continue to fight under the Prime," Starscream said. It wasn't much. "And he's agreed to keep Megatron's deactivation a secret for now." 

"Are you going to represent us, or will I?" Thundercracker eventually got to the stickiest point because of their fragged-up trine. "Air Commander, or the Air Commander's Order?"

Starscream offlined his optics and focused on the way Skywarp was rubbing his wings in slow, easy circles. Action soothing a distressed Vision, the way things were supposed to be. "I will represent us," he said, the full authority of his rank and position within the Decepticon army in his voice. 

Not the way things were supposed to be, but the way they _had_ to be. 

His optics flicked back on and he looked at Thundercracker. "But I review everything with you first. Both of you."

Thundercracker flicked his wings in acceptance, his field relaxing. It wasn't how it should be, but so long as they were all working off the same plan it would work well enough. "What do you want to ask for, what is the end goal we're going to present to Prowl?"

"Ugh, with the big questions, Thundercracker," Starscream groaned, hand going up to his helm to press down against the processor ache. "A governmental structure separate from a religious alignment. The Prime should not have authority over matters of the State. He isn't an elected official. The end of any kind of class system. Before any of _that_ , a cease-fire between the separating factions, with an agreement that we will align against any Autobots or Decepticons, _together_ , who decide to break the cease fire."

"Big questions for big steps," Thundercracker murmured, reached out to rub soothing circles on Starscream's wing. "How will leaders be chosen? You know Prowl will have this sorted out to his favor before you even comm for the next meeting. We need to be ready to counter any plan we don't like with a viable option or he'll reject our objection as one without a solution."

"I know," Starscream sighed. "I want to get Prowl and Soundwave in a room together and lock them in there until they've designed a new constitution. Wartime officers should begin as the political officials and be filtered out through popular elections and term limits. _No_ inherited offices, no benefits for politicians or their families. It's a job, not an entitlement, and it should be treated like it." He thought for a moment. "Soundwave is too loyal to the legalities of things, but that at least means he'll do what I tell him to. Shockwave ... may present a problem."

"All things considered, if Shockwave if still functioning when the constitution has been hashed out, I'll be quite surprised," Thundercracker chuckled darkly. "If what you've said is true, the SpecOps division cut loose from Prime's orders will make very short work of those that have _really_ pissed off Jazz. If not, well, we know most of the Seekers still assigned to Darkmount are still loyal to their Air Commander. Shockwave only commands them because you haven't said not to."

"Shockwave will never accept defecting, even if it isn't to the Autobots," Skywarp suddenly paused with a bright flash of his optics. "What if this isn't defecting to a new side, but ejecting any Decepticons that won't play by the new rules?"

"One problem: Prowl." Thundercracker countered. "I doubt he'd accept walking away from his allegiance if we didn't make the same sacrifice."

"What if both sides did it, though?" Starscream said. "If Prowl and Jazz agree to make the Prime stand down and strip him of rank, and they eject any that refuse to follow new leadership? Meanwhile, we do the same thing. And we have to recall the rest of the Seekers to Earth, as soon as we can."

Thundercracker hummed. "True. It would dramatically improve our chance of success in some ways, but how many of either side can really let go without having to choose to defect?"

"Wait, we aren't going to take Cybertron back?" Skywarp tensed.

"We can't take back Cybertron until there isn't any fighting _here_ ," Starscream said. "We all want Cybertron back, we all want it rebuilt, but if we just drag the fighting back there, we might as well just blow the planet up and be done with it. No, better to gather here, let _this_ planet suffer the damages, _then_ return and deal with Shockwave."

Skywarp twitched his wings in understanding and acceptance, but also a bit of awe at his Vision's intellect on display.

"Everyone will be pardoned for all crimes committed before the treaty is signed," Thundercracker said firmly. "There isn't a mecha functioning that hasn't earned execution a thousand times over. No one will be happy, but it must happen if any of us are to survive."

"Agreed," Starscream said, watching the colors in the sky fade back into another day cycle. Everything moved so _fast_ on this planet. He shuddered. "Even Jazz. Even Vortex if he'll stay aligned."

"Still can't _believe_ you fragged him," Skywarp muttered.

"He has a flight alt!" Starscream protested. "And I was really 'charged."

"Can't believe you fragged _Prowl,_ " Skywarp said. 

"He--"

" _Had_ a flight frame," Thundercracker cut him off. "He's Praxian now." He waved off Starscream's building protest, resulting in their Vision glowering at him "Look, if this can work, really work, I'd frag _the Prime_ if it'd help. You are right about locking Prowl and Soundwave in a room to sort out the legal and political system. They're smart, clever and scary-focused."

Starscream just twitched his wings, visibly sulking at being cut off, signaling the immediate end of any more real discussion. Thundercracker just rolled his optics while Skywarp began trilling and cooing his temperamental trinemate. After a few moments Thundercracker joined in and together they nuzzled Starscream, stroking his plating to entice him out of his snit. He spent a few kliks hissing back at them but they weren't strangers to his moods and being patient was (usually) worth it, and he finally relaxed between them. 

Skywarp slid up against him, nuzzling and nipping his way into a kiss. "Can we _please_ take a break from talk?" he asked with an enticing trill.

Thundercracker chuckled and Starscream managed something that sounded like an affirmative as knowing, familiar fingers found his valve cover. 

"Who was the last one inside you?" Thundercracker asked quietly. 

"Megatron," Starscream said, tensing both his trinemates.

"We _both_ need to correct that," Thundercracker hissed, his long history of lukewarm support for the Decepticon cause beginning to shift to outright, _visible_ animosity towards their former leader. He nuzzled Starscream for a kiss while his hands slide along the sleek wings that had always been the envy of every Seeker. "One at a time, or both at once?"

Starscream hummed as his wings pressed back and Skywarp took another kiss. "One at a time," he purred when his glossa was no longer dancing with his trinemate's. "Lasts longer that way."

Thundercracker chuckled and shifted out of the way so Skywarp could settle on his back. The black Seeker's spike cover slid open, though he wasn't quite as ready as he'd normally be.

Starscream lifted a questioning wing at him as he crawled up to straddle him. "And what's with you?" he asked, leaning in to lick his way up Skywarp's neck cables. "You _do_ know who you're about to frag, don't you?"

"My temperamental, moody, high-maintenance, self-obsessed Vision," the black Seeker grinned unrepentantly, bringing a rare snicker out of Thundercracker as the blue Seeker moved behind Starscream to rub their Vision's wings.

Starscream's sharp protest faded away into a purr as he melted into Thundercracker's fingers working him over. And it wasn't like Skywarp was wrong, he had to admit to himself. " _Why_ do I put up with you?" he moaned, rubbing their cockpits together. 

"Because _we're_ the only ones who will put up with _you_ ," Thundercracker said with exasperated fondness. 

"And no matter what you say in public, _we_ know you don't really want to lead," Skywarp purred into the rubbing as he caught Starscream for a heated kiss.

"You're our Vision. You're too smart for politics to settle well with you," Thundercracker murmured, rubbing against Starscream's back as he continued to work the tri-colored wings flared out under his protective ones.

"Politics are a _punishment_ ," Starscream said, and purred against his Action's mouth as he slid his valve cover away, baring the tempting heat against Skywarp's plating. That and the rubbing, the purring engines and Starscream's desire quickly pressurized Skywarp's spike.

"For those not meant for it, it definitely is," Thundercracker moaned softly in anticipation of seeing and feeling what was happening before him. "You are meant for better things, Starscream."

Starscream didn't even try not to preen as he rubbed against Skywarp's length. His trine understood the lavishing praise that he craved and, at least some of the time, when he hadn't been _too_ much of a pain recently, were willing to give it to him. 

"You're being a _tease_ ," Skywarp growled when Starscream still hadn't taken him in. 

Starscream grinned at him and didn't stop teasing until Thundercracker gave his wingtips a small twist. "All _right_ ," Starscream said, rolling his optics. "Ruin all my--" He sank down onto Skywarp's spike, and his frame seized up immediately. 

_Familiar_. 

_Trusted._

" _'Warp_ ," he moaned.

"Oh yeah!" the black Seeker bucked up into his trinemate and reached up to pet and stroke whatever plating he could reach, though he was already distracted by Starscream's hot slickness.

"Glad you're back," Thundercracker nuzzled Starscream, then kissed his neck.

Starscream purred happily as he rocked. Life wasn't perfect, _they_ weren't perfect, they were broken and warped in ways that might never be fixed, but they were still trine. 

Whatever else came, he could handle it with his trine.

* * *

Jazz scowled when he saw Prowl return from wherever he'd gotten off too. Normally he'd have thought it was a good thing that their resident tactician, the workaholic's workaholic, took off for some self time, but when Prowl managed to ditch him within a half a groon it became a concern. That he was gone for almost four groons, half the night shift, just wasn't normal in any way.

The scuffs and evidence of trying to get rid of evidence was even more worrying. Who could he have met that he'd feel the need to not tell and hide?

He waited until the tactician was out of sight, counted down in his processors, and gave him precisely enough time to get to his office where potentially more thorough polishing equipment would be located, finished his energon in a single gulp, and followed. 

He hacked the office lock and stepped through the door without pinging. It rewarded him with flared doorwings, over-bright optics and for the first time he could recall, seeing Prowl with an expression resembling a mechling caught drinking high grade.

"How's hangin', my mech?" he asked with a grin like he was greeting an old friend in a bar. He walked right over and blatantly looked Prowl up and down, reached out to tap some obvious scrapes on his chest. "Well _these_ are interesting," he said mildly.

Prowl managed to collect himself and straighten before he picked up a polishing cloth and went to work. "You did wish to see how far Starscream would go if given a believable opening to betray the Decepticon cause. The answer is very far."

Jazz, somehow, couldn't bring himself to be surprised. He made a circle around Prowl and touched a streak of blue on his hip, the red that was lower and far more intimately located. "Details."

"So long as a Prime is not in charge of the government, Starscream is willing to pull all the Seekers and likely others into a third faction with us," Prowl answered, pointedly ignoring the touch.

"Is that the _only_ reason you went out there?" Jazz asked. "To determine his willingness?" 

Prowl refused to look at him, his entire apparent focus on cleaning himself up. "I had other questions as well. I did not anticipate what happened. It is...." he scowled to himself. "Do you know what 'Praxian' means in Seeker cant?"

"It means something _besides_ Praxian?" Jazz asked, raising an optic ridge at him. 

"It is a curse that has no equivalent I am aware of. Not even _perfuga_ ," Prowl spoke quietly as he continued to work. "Betrayer of the very core of your reason to exist. Praxians came from Seekers. I do not know how the change came about, but as proud as Praxians once were of their historical connection to Vos and a Seeker lineage, Seekers despised them for the claim and its truth."

"So you're tellin' me that Screamer being with you, willingly, _in his own frame_ , is a big deal," Jazz summarized. "So, no Prime. We can make a third faction look like that, easy. How much are we keepin' from Prime about the end game?"

"Yes, it's a very big deal," Prowl confirmed. "At the moment, we should keep everything we can from him. The less he knows, the better I calculate this working. Once detailed negotiations begin we can reevaluate as needed. Starscream knows you will be involved. His trine will be as well. There is much to discuss before we know how this will play out."

"Well we know how it plays out," Jazz said, finally coming to settle by sitting on Prowl's desk. "We take the 'Cons out while they're split and in-fightin'. Prime'll have ta know about some of it _some_ time."

"No, there two likely endgames," Prowl said firmly. "While I currently calculate a 73.9% probability that it will end with a Decepticon slaughter, I will not discount the possibility that Starscream is being genuine and the alliance will become the best option for peace once more details are available. I do not wish to bring Prime in until I am certain which option is best in the long run. That tipping point is 92%. The same minimum probability I will give an acceptable high-risk mission. I would also tell him if it comes to the point where he must play a role."

Jazz was just staring at him when he finished. "Wait," he finally said, holding a hand up, and then pausing, curling his fingers back down and lowering it to the desk again. "You're actually _considering_ an alliance with the reason _my_ best agent is _at this moment_ sitting in his quarters and trying to convince himself he's worth the energon we give him?" His engines gave a dark, angry growl. " _That's_ what I'm hearing right now?"

Doorwings twitched as armor gave a soft rattle of warning that there was _anger_ under the calm field. "Why is he in that state?"

"Because _your_ secret affair cut his seal out with a knife!" Jazz hissed. "Why do you _think?_ " 

Rage flared bright, only to turn to disgust rich with distain. "He should have grown up and joined the rest of us when he became an Autobot," Prowl snarled, hurting too much to be rational, much less empathetic. "I learned. I'm coping _without_ hiding from my duties. He values his noble status more than his Autobot status. Maybe he shouldn't have been allowed to join if it mattered _that_ much to him."

"Oh, because _anyone_ who isn't at this moment actively working is hiding from his duties!" Jazz said, and there was no attempt to keep his anger out of his voice. "He does have _down time_ , you know, just because you're an overclocked workaholic doesn't mean everyone else has to be! He _is_ coping, he _is_ working, he's not allowed to take his _own_ time to deal with something traumatic? We're not machines, Prowl!"

And then Jazz watched as something broke in Prowl. The anger and everything else drained away even faster than it had built, leaving a hollow teek to his field. The kind Jazz was used to feeling from mecha who'd given up on living.

"Of course," Prowl said quietly. "I know better than to allow my feelings to interfere with my perception. It will not happen again."

Jazz hesitated, then sighed, rubbing his forehelm. "That was uncalled for," he muttered. "Probably why Prime told us to stay away from each other. Just-- _please_ \--tell me we're not about to lie to Prime and have _this conversation_ just because the Seeker's a good frag."

"Absolutely not." Prowl stiffened, somewhere between horrified and shocked at the idea. "If this was about getting off, I'd ask you, Ratchet or Prime for a joor or two of your time."

"Well at least you have your priorities straight," Jazz said with a satisfied smirk that he was first on that list. He drew his pedes up and under him on the desk, holding his ankles as he looked at Prowl. "I'm just trying to understand what changed so much that you went from wantin' his chamber on the receivin' end of a blaster to considerin' what sounds like an alliance with him."

Prowl paused, mulling over just how much to say, then locked optics with Jazz through the visor. "Prime may not be told this yet."

"Cross my spark, hope to die," Jazz said with a grin, drawing an X over the center of his chest.

Prowl scowled at him. "Starscream has already deactivated Megatron. What changed is that we no longer require his cooperation to end the war, but it would reduce the Autobot fatalities count." Prowl fiddled with and stared at the polishing cloth in his hand before going back to work at making the evidence of his tryst go away. "What changed is how much I am feeling about what happened. Not just falling for Starscream's ruse, but what Mirage did afterwards. The shock has worn off, the emergency is over. Now it simply hurts."

Jazz was silent for a long time as he processed all of that information. "What did Mirage do?" he finally asked. "He was supposed to gently back out of the contract. Those were his orders."

"He behaved well. We have a plan to make it appear as a non-event to the crew. It does not make his reflexive reaction to what he learned about me and what happened when he was not in control any less emotionally painful for both of us." Prowl paused as he moved to clean his hip. "He was not the only one to lose a seal to Starscream."

"...Oh," Jazz said. " _Oh._ Okay, so ... oh. Well that's just ... lovely and complicated for everyone involved, isn't it. Ugh." He watched Prowl working for a few moments. "So what's the next step, meet for talks with the Command Trine?"

"Yes. For now Starscream would prefer it is only myself, though he understands that I require your support for anything other than negotiating surrender. I should have a much more solid understanding of his vision of the next few vorns then."

"If he's bringing his trine, I'm comin' too," Jazz said. "No way I'm lettin' you meet with _those three_ alone." He sighed, looking like he was debating something. "'Raj told me something strange, about Screamer," he finally said. "He got the impression that he doesn't actually _want_ to lead the 'Cons, and it seems like he didn't even really control his own trine."

"That is correct," Prowl said simply. "He admitted to me--in a way--that he is a Vision by coding. Visions do not lead."

"Handy to know, if we need to use it," Jazz mused. "Obviously doesn't want it to be well known, with all his leadership screeching."

"I expect it would cost him dearly among the Decepticons," Prowl agreed. "Though the use is limited. The Command Trine will have a leader, an Order. It just is not Starscream. I expect I can work out who fairly soon."

"Do that, and let me know once you do," Jazz instructed. "The more leverage we have against them the better for us. I need ta be in the loop on this, Prowl, capiche? Not sure what _you_ think the odds are, but I don't trust a 'Con any more than I could out-fly one, and with _this_ ," he gestured up and down at the few remaining marks on Prowl's frame, "I want at least one of us involved who doesn't have somethin' ta lose."

"What is it you believe I have to lose?" Prowl flicked his doorwings in dismissal of the idea.

"A lover," Jazz said seriously. "Again. Not sure I think you went out there just ta test Screamer's willingness."

"I already said I had other questions I wanted answered," Prowl pointed out with something resembling his normal patience. "Also, you were the one to suggest that I should continue to string Starscream along, as you phrased it."

"With _my_ input," Jazz said. "Not sneaking off inta the night like a mechling with something ta hide. But fine, I hope you got your answers, and I look forward to hearing about the next steps."

"Enough of them," Prowl said. "Is there anything else, or may I return to work?" he nearly snapped at Jazz.

Jazz gave him a hard look. "There is _so_ much else, but I don't think anything productive will come from me reminding you, _again_ , that this mech we're talkin' about might as well be a rapist for all he's done." He jumped off the desk and walked past Prowl. "He's a _'Con_ , Prowl, don't forget it."

"That is one thing that is impossible for me to forget," Prowl said firmly before Jazz left, leaving him to continue processing what he had just learned and continue to process the last metacycle in light of the new information. Deep down, Prowl knew no good could come from becoming emotionally involved with anyone, but it was far too late to change what had already happened. With what Mirage believed, with how much the mech despised him for what he was and had been, that he would turn to the only mech in millennia to even pretend to like him was inevitable.

Mistakes had been made, and those mistakes would cost lives.


	7. Love, Sex and Politics

Starscream stood in front of Thundercracker and Skywarp, his wings twitching anxiously. He could feel the full weight of his trinemates' gazes on them, could practically hear theirs twitching with disapproval in return. 

They were waiting on a rocky, isolated spit of land for Prowl and Jazz to arrive, in hopes of starting some kind of conversation between their factions. They had agreed on a plan, had the basics drawn up, and just needed to get the Autobots' SIC and TIC on board. 

"Slow grounders," Skywarp muttered. 

"Not like they can help it," Starscream snapped back at him, and felt the flare of Thundercracker's reprimanding field against his back, but headlights emerging from the water stopped any reply. The grounders drove up, dropping salt water in sheets at first. By the time the pair transformed and stood up, they were still very wet but no longer drenched.

There was no doubt in Starscream's mind that things hadn't gone well between the last time he'd seen Prowl and this time. The former Aerial was doing a fine impression of Thundercracker in a serious funk, and Jazz, who even in battle tended to be upbeat, was not showing any good mood.

"Starscream, Thundercracker, Skywarp," Prowl greeted them in turn by their Decepticon rank.

"Prowl, Jazz," Starscream said, as the other two took their places. 

Prowl did not look happy, and Starscream's wings canted down in concern. No one else moved, and all five stood in silence for an uncomfortable klik before Starscream stepped forward and pulled out a datapad, holding it out. "These our demands, and our design."

Prowl accepted it and began to scan it while Jazz read from the side, though the Autobot TIC quickly gave up when the speed was several times too fast for him. Instead he focused on the Seekers. "So how many do you expect will join this little adventure?"

"Perhaps half," Starscream said calmly. "All the Seekers, I hope all the airframes. "How many do you expect will accept your Prime's forcible resignation?"

"You can control Vortex and Blastoff?" Jazz didn't hide his doubts. "How many depends on how Prime takes it. If we can make him see reason...."

"We can," Prowl stated without looking up and with a 'not going to accept anything less' flick of his doorwings.

"Then all but a few," Jazz finished.

"Why retain the factions?" Prowl did look up now. "While it will increase the numbers we have at first, it will also make long-term integration much more difficult than if everyone is required to denounce their allegiance to join the future."

"I believe a cease fire and treaty will provide more stability in the long run than a third faction that is seen as the traitorous off-shoots of the former two," Starscream said, inclining his helm. "As for Vortex and Blast Off, I intend to try. There is a small chance that they will see chance of peace as a good thing, if not, they will be destroyed."

Jazz nodded his satisfaction at the proposal while Prowl mulled the response over and went back to reading. His doorwings twitched and flicked, a visible sign of his unsteady emotional state that all five were well aware of.

"What of Soundwave and Shockwave?" Prowl asked.

"Shockwave is a lost cause," Starscream said, waving his hand dismissively. "Soundwave will stay loyal to me, only because Megatron's deactivation officially passes his command rank to me."

Watching Jazz closely, the Seekers knew the news wasn't a surprise to Jazz.

After nearly a klik Prowl glanced at Jazz. "Your assessment of keeping the factions?"

Jazz huffed and frowned. "I think if we just try ta leave with Prime still in command of the Autobots, we'll get a grand total of zip in the way of followers from the main ranks, and we'll be useless as a battle force." 

"We're prepared to discuss a third faction option," Starscream said. "But that would make one against two, and lower odds."

Prowl hummed. "Who will remove Shockwave?"

"I would appreciate that honor," Starscream said with a low, angry growl.

"He's all yours," Prowl's engine growl spoke volumes. "Do you have a use for his spark chamber?"

"None," Starscream said, and gave Prowl a curious look, hidden beneath a bit of a smirk. His wings tilted with interest, and not just in Prowl's question. "You do?"

"Only for decoration, but I would like to have it," Prowl said simply, evenly. The most evenly any of them had seen in orns. "I agree with the political structure outline and the system for replacing officers with the choices from open elections. I also agree with having the priesthood separated from government, however I would argue that there is not enough to keep the wealthy and overtly religious in their place once open elections begin. Earth and the humans have created a wonderfully diverse set of examples of how to corrupt every system, and in such, many effective ways to prevent that corruption."

"Well, as much as I would love to ban anyone glitched enough to believe in a giant spark residing in the center of a _planet_ , I see no way to do so without being blatantly oppressive, which is what we're trying to avoid," Starscream said with an irritated flick. "Wealth can be fairly easily limited with frequent audits of politicians and spending limits for those running, but as for the religious, I welcome insight and suggestion."

Prowl hummed. "If we intend to keep them out of the government and with little power, the simplest solution I have is to bring it into the government and bar anyone in government from holding more than one post. It is also, in the long run, far simpler to regulate a government entity than it is a private one. Too much regulation on what is supposedly a private industry is a set up for unrest and resentment."

Starscream cocked his head and lifted his wings in a question to Thundercracker, watching the response with a pinpointed sonar net. How much of it Prowl or Jazz could discern was uncertain. 

Thundercracker thought it was an interesting idea, one worth exploring, and Starscream inclined his helm in response to Prowl. "An idea worth exploring," he said. "For later, however. Much of that will be between you and Soundwave to sort out, since you're both so good at the organizing stuff," he flicked his hand in a dismissive gesture, but his wings flicked in respect for those who had the patience and scope of vision to handle such things. "How long will it take to convince the Prime to do what is needed?"

"With this, less than a decaorn," Prowl said with some certainty. "How quickly will you be ready to move on it and expel or execute the holdouts among your ranks?"

"All that is required is to announce Megatron's deactivation and my subsequent change in rank," Starscream said tensely. "The rest will fall into place from there after a cease fire is announced, but there _must_ be a signed cease fire first." 

Jazz and Prowl glanced at each other. Jazz tapped on the datapad. "Who authored this?" 

Starscream frowned, wings tilting back in a question. 

Instead of answering, Thundercracker stepped forward. "I did," he said.

Prowl canted his doorwings in understanding, and they gave a flicker of approval, then reached into his subspace for a datapad of his own and offered it. "This is what I came up with." He turned his attention to Starscream. "I would have us meet again in two orns time. That should be sufficient for both sides to read the other's ideas more thoroughly and incorporate them in a treaty. Once the five of us agree on the initial terms, Jazz and I will take it to Prime with the cease fire. If he sees the reasonable nature of it, this could be over within half a decaorn. If not, it may take us a bit longer to make him see reason."

"Understood," Starscream said, regarding Prowl. He was trying to decide how to propose another meeting between them, without the politics involved, when Skywarp stepped forward with a deep snarl. 

"How do we know we can trust you to uphold your side of this?" the agitated teleported growled, but before either Prowl or Jazz could answer, Starscream turned and snarled at him, wings flaring up. 

"You're out of line," he hissed. 

Skywarp hissed back, looking torn, and Thundercracker stood motionless to the side, until the black Seeker stood down, bowing his head to Starscream's rank. 

Starscream gave a satisfied flick before turning back around. "His question is still valid," he said. 

"The same way we know that you intend to," Prowl said pointedly, though he kept his tone even and his doorwings relaxed, for him. "This is where we all must choose whether peace, this peace, is worth the risk of trusting those we have no reason to trust."

Starscream canted his wings in agreement. He didn't dare risk comming Prowl right here and now, not with Jazz so close, but he did ask a silent question, hoping that Prowl had enough of the Praxian coding to understand him, and that Jazz wouldn't be able to decipher the precise flicking motions. 

_Meet me?_

It made both of his wingmates tense, but Prowl's doorwings twitched in positive response and gave a little twitch of anticipation.

"Is there anything else to discus at this time?" Prowl glanced at Jazz, Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp in turn.

"Nothin'," Jazz said as he took the datapad from Prowl and subspaced it, as Starscream did the same with theirs. 

"We have nothing more," Thundercracker said, giving Starscream a hard look. 

Starscream ignored it. "In two orns," he said in parting, jumped into the air, and transformed to rocket away. As his wingmates joined him, he accepted an encrypted comm from Prowl with a set of coordinates, and dove into a tight barrel roll to confirm them to his ground-confined lover.

* * *

Prowl slipped away from the Ark, taking far more care this time to avoid being detected. He knew what he felt and it terrified him. For the first time in his long and storied existence he understood those who betrayed their cause for love. Except this wasn't love. It was only a desperate need to feel _wanted_ as a mech, not a skillset, and it hurt like nothing he could imagine before. He was just as sure that if the war was still in full swing he would not hesitate to obliterate these feelings, but peace was being offered, and that offered hope that he wouldn't have to.

That hope, he knew, was likely to kill many mecha.

Starscream was already waiting for him when he reached the bottom of a secluded canyon, red optics giving away his position in the dark. The Seeker waited until Prowl cut his engines and transformed up into root mode before moving, stepping forward and pressing Prowl against the canyon wall, kissing him heatedly. That was all it took to shatter every processing thread in Prowl's primary processor and he kissed back, hot and full of need. His hands reached up to caress his lover, seeking out hot spots he knew of.

"What--happened?" Starscream asked, syllables broken by desperate, _wanting_ kisses, with a gasping shudder as Prowl's fingers ran along the tops of his wings. "Never teeked you like that before--you're upset--something _happened._ "

Prowl's doorwings dropped, embarrassed, humiliated and shamed. "Mirage happened, then _you_ happened, and Jazz saw us," he managed to get out, struggling to organize his thoughts.

Starscream froze. "He _saw_ us?" he repeated, as his hands went to the Prowl's neck to rub in soothing circles.

"He knows," Prowl pressed into the touch, his voice cracking slightly even as his field smoothed. "He hacked into my office before I could clean up. He _knows_. He _knows_ how much I miss you, even knowing how it came about. He knows I do not care," he finally murmured as he rested against the Seeker's chest. "I want this peace, because it means we will soon be free of what makes us enemies."

"Is he going to be a threat?" Starscream asked with a soft growl, arms coming up to encircle Prowl and hold him tightly. "We're committed to this, we _want_ this. We mean it, every word. The war has to end, if Jazz is going to threaten that because he doesn't like that you want me, we need to know about it." 

"For now, he's not," Prowl relaxed into the contact, reveling in the newness of being cared about and made a note that this was dangerously addictive, but he didn't care. "There are endgames where he becomes a threat, but none of those have more than a twenty-three percent probability right now. If I can sell this plan to Prime, and given the rough draft of the treaty and proposed government so far I believe I can, Jazz is unlikely to ever need to be a threat." Prowl allowed his optics to dim, savoring the sensation of being the protected one out of affection rather than hated for the need to do so. "He forgets his place on occasion. I have reason to keep him in check now. Prime will soon."

"Good," Starscream said, and Prowl could hear a scowl in his voice, but no anger towards him. "Is he the only one that upset you?"

"Mirage, but you know as well as I do why," Prowl felt himself relax further than he had in a very, very long time. "I cannot blame him for what he is. He is no threat to you or us."

"He is a self-obsessed aft," Starscream snorted. "Of course, my trine will tell you that I am too, and they're right, but I like to think I actually deserve it."

Prowl chuckled, his mood visibly lifting. "Does your trine know?"

He immediately felt his face tilted up and found his gaze locked with Starscream's. "Yes," the flier said, very seriously. "You don't get a Seeker without his trine. They know everything." His hands moved to Prowl's hips, touched the spots that had been so recently buffed and polished. "The fact that you're in a grounder frame is bad enough, but that it's Praxian is even worse, so they're taking some time."

"The Praxian part can be changed after the war, when there are spare resources for it," Prowl hummed with pleasure at the touch. "I still find it amazing that they would even consider accepting me," he purred softly and stretched for a long, drawn out kiss. "I don't suppose there is a primer for this kind of situation? I would like to avoid major mistakes. Just being an Autobot officer will make it difficult enough."

"Nothing so handy, but the situation itself isn't _too_ strange, if you take out the build and faction parts," Starscream said, pressing Prowl harder against the rock and felt him all but melt into the possessive, protective contact. "A trine with all three members emotionally involved with the other two was rarer than most would think. Trines form for stability, to have all three roles together, but many if not most had one or more members with a regular lover or mate or even a pair from another trine." Muted grief and nostalgia went through his field. "I think you've figured out our roles by now." 

"You were the Vision, Thundercracker the Order, Skywarp the Action," Prowl reached out to caress Starscream's wings, trying to sooth the grief. "Will you go back to that, when you are finally voted out of office? Will my lover be the brilliant scientist he was once known for again?"

"Someone knows how to flatter," Starscream purred. "Yes. Thundercracker will take his place in the political spheres where he belongs, I will finally return to research. We've never actually _stopped_ being what we are, it's just gotten ... confused. I fly better than them, I had to accept the higher rank, and to be taken seriously by the Seekers in my command, I needed to act the Order, and Thundercracker the Vision." 

"It couldn't have been easy for either of you," Prowl murmured. "Going against coding like that. Are you created knowing your role, or does it come about later?"

"There's a marker in the CNA that shows what a sparkling will become, but most creators don't do the testing for it. Well, most commoner creators." Starscream nuzzled against Prowl's helm, sounding delighted to explain everything about his people that Prowl wanted to know. "Nobles always tested for it, you could bargain an Action sparkling in exchange for an alliance with a House lacking one, for example. Usually it's pretty obvious what a youngling will be, but sometimes a mech would get his adult upgrades and realize he was something other than what he'd thought."

"How soon did you know?" Prowl nuzzled back, willingly submitting to the Seeker who would display care for him.

"Didn't know if I was a Vision or an Order for a long time," Starscream said. "They're the easiest to mix up. Actions ... well, you've met Skywarp," he said with a chuckle. "Wasn't until I was almost an adult and most of the way through university that I _really_ knew."

Prowl purred, relaxed and stroking Starscream's wings with open affection. "So it wasn't something that turned on one orn. You found you way there by knowing yourself."

"If you _must_ sound so sappy about it, yes," Starscream said, but he sounded amused instead of displeased. "Mostly it was when I realized I'd rather put myself through Pit researching molecular physics on obscure planets than worry about making social headway among my peers. One good thing about being a Vision," he bared his denta in a vicious looking grin. "You really don't care what others think about you." He pressed in to take a deep kiss that revved Prowl's engine. "How long do you have?"

"Half a joor at most," Prowl said reluctantly when the kiss finally ended. "If I'm not back well before dawn at the Ark it will look suspicious. It should be much easier to meet in a few orns, once it is somewhat public knowledge that we are negotiating for peace." He hummed and smiled up at the features that had been of a key enemy for so long and wondered at the change in his reaction happening so quickly. "Do you think you'd ever want to teach? There are so few intellectually inclined mecha left to help the next generation of scientists learn even the basics. It's been skewed so far to war needs that entire disciplines are gone."

Starscream gave a displeased-sounding groan. "If it was necessary to rid the future of morons, and at this point it might be, I would teach. If it paid for my research, I'd teach _and_ pretend to like it."

Prowl didn't stop the light laugh. "Noted. What do you want to research the most?"

"Mm, I'd love to pick back up on the earlier work that I lost the funding for," Starscream said with a dreamy purr. His optics focused out past Prowl and the canyon they were in. "Temporal molecular displacement, some of that work you read and enjoyed. What do _you_ want to do?"

The question startled Prowl and made him fall silent as he thought about the answer. Slowly he lowered his helm to rest against Starscream's shoulder. "Leave Prowl behind. A new life, new frame, new function," he whispered very quietly. "Something where I do not make life and death decisions regularly. Something that doesn't make me hated for doing my function."

Starscream didn't answer right away, and his hands roamed over Prowl's frame with a thoughtful teek, briefly touching the doorwings, the blatantly Praxian designs. "I will make you fly again," he finally murmured, mouth pressed to Prowl's audial.

Prowl moaned softly, the utter thrill of the idea washing through him as he pressed into the touch. "Even at the price it bears?"

"Whatever price you're willing to pay," Starscream swore. "It's cruel to keep you in this frame. No matter what else I believe, I _know_ that a flier shouldn't be trapped like this. It's a perversion."

"It hurts," Prowl whispered, trembling slightly at acknowledging that it was even possible. He knew he would never be allowed to make such a change if the Autobots won. He was too valuable a resource to let go. There would always be a threat they 'needed' him to counter. Suddenly he twitched. "But another grounder might be willing to take it. These processors _are_ an incredibly valuable resource."

"If that's what needs to happen, we will find someone," Starscream said. "All _I_ know is that if you wanted to have them removed and melted to scrap you should be allowed to. It's _your_ frame."

Prowl hummed, enticed by that thought as well. "We will see what is best, when the war is over. It will be nice to no longer be owned by the government, or anyone."

"No one?" Starscream purred, fingers playing down Prowl's sides.

"You wish to own me?" Prowl asked, curious, almost playful, as he pressed into the touches and returned them.

"Maybe not _you_ so much as your pleasure," Starscream said. "Do I want to _own_ you? No, not the way you're thinking of right now. Do I want to be the one that can command you to your knees? Yes, _yes_ , the thrill of knowing you choose to obey, that's what I want to own."

"That you have," Prowl shivered. "Willingly and knowingly given."

Starscream's touches became decidedly more pointed in their exploration and his denta scraped gently over Prowl's plating. "I may not want to lead the Decepticons, but I do love a power trip."

"Such as my mouth on your spike?" Prowl purred deeply as his engine revved. "And pinning me on my back."

"And making you beg before I allow you to find some relief for the ache," Starscream said, low and husky. His hips rocked forward, grinding against Prowl, his hands gave the barest downward pressure. There was no hesitation as Prowl sank to his knees, arousal flaring to lap at Starscream's platting as Prowl kissed the spike cover's center, then shifted his lips to caress and lick at the edge.

Starscream braced himself with one hand against the cliff behind Prowl, his other hand resting on top of Prowl's head, petting and stroking. His spike cover slid away and the tip pushed out against Prowl's lower lip. It was immediately given a quick lick, then a slow, intimate, glossa-swirling kiss. The bright flare of Prowl's field gave no way to mistake this for anything other than a desirable action on Prowl's part, something that aroused him and gave him emotional pleasure to perform.

It made Starscream moan above him and the thin, sensor-rich metal started to warm to the offered heat and pleasure. Starscream's hand stroked Prowl's helm as he coaxed more and more of the spike out with the same treatment, lavishing attention to every micron as it appeared. 

"Just like that," Starscream breathed.

Prowl purred at the praise, hints in his field that he received it far too rarely. It was a teek that Starscream knew well, and only reinforced his upset that a brilliant, dedicated mech would be so under-appreciated. It was wrong on so many levels, but the humming, purring, eager attention being lavished on his spike was so very _right_. Even those who'd been willing to do so before hadn't _enjoyed_ it like this. Never like this.

He was going to see to it that this clipped flier was cared for the way he should be. A rush of feeling and determination that he'd been fighting since learning about Prowl's past was forcefully making itself known in his processors and, if he was honest with himself, he knew he hadn't been _really_ acting for a long time. "So good at that," he purred, unashamedly praising.

Another flare of pleasure at the words came through Prowl's field and was matched by the deep purr of the grounder engine. It was such a different sensation than the high whine of a flight engine, but it was still electric to Starscream's systems. When was the last time he'd had a lover eager for _him?_ Aside from his trine, of course, but they hardly counted. 

When Prowl's lips touched his spike housing, Starscream grabbed the back of his helm and held him there. "Swallow," he whispered hoarsely. Prowl complied, excitement and eager anticipation surging through his field as he lifted his arms to hold Starscream's hips, bracing the Seeker for when the overload hit.

The intake worked around him, caressing up and down the tip and top half. Starscream's fingers tightened and he x-vented harshly, hips moving in short, sharp thrusts as the joints in his legs tightened with every surge of current that passed through them. Prowl held steady, waiting, willing, and Starscream screamed when his overload finally cascaded through him. Each new, reflexive jerk sent a burst of crackling transfluid into Prowl's intake, causing him to swallow all the more eagerly.

By the time Starscream could make sense of input again he registered Prowl's strength holding him upright and steady and Prowl's continuing efforts to draw the overload out. That same effort only revved him back up again and though his grip didn't loosen, his hips pulled back only to press back forward, shoving into Prowl's intake. Prowl moaned in delight and held on, and Starscream was happy to lose himself in the heat. 

On the other side of the river, tucked behind some boulders and crouched against the canyon wall, two pairs of crimson optics watched with bright fascination. 

"Look at him _go_ ," Skywarp said, sounding amazed.

"If that's faking, he's a better actor than Soundwave," Thundercracker agreed, his deep rumble thick with arousal. "Could he actually _care_ about our Star like that?"

"Hard to tell," Skywarp said, frowning. "He's a fracking _Autobot._ " 

"An Autobot that doesn't believe in Primus and will openly talk of betraying the Prime," Thundercracker murmured. "Who ever heard of such a thing." 

"Not me," Skywarp admitted, as his wings tilted up invitingly and he looked over his shoulder at his mate, who rumbled with darkening optics and moved forward to stroke his wings.

"Down, lover," Thundercracker growled with nip to Skywarp's neck. "Those two are making me hot."

Skywarp gave a delighted purr as he obeyed, wings canted perfectly, chest going down and aft lifting up. "You too?" he said, grinning at his mate.

"Yes," Thundercracker growled, his optics on his mate's valve panel for the most part but occasionally glancing towards their Vision and Air Commander as the Autobot SIC's doorwings fluttered with enjoyment at sucking him off. "Open up," he ordered, his fingers stroking the valve cover. "I want you to overload with Starscream this time."

Skywarp gave a short groan of anticipation as the cover snapped back eagerly, his gazed fixed on the trysting lovers across the river as his wings tracked Thundercracker's every motion. "Think it'll last?" he asked, half-panted. "Those two?"

"If Prowl isn't acting, I think so," Thundercracker admitted as he drove into his lover, hard and deep, while his hands went to the wings splayed out before him. "You know Star's got a thing for smarts, and Prowl's ... well, he's kept us at bay for a long time."

"Yeah but that _frame,_ " Skywarp managed, trying to keep his voice down. "'S gotta g-- _oh._ " He arched his back strut as Thundercracker gripped the tops of his wings near the center joint, pulling as he drove his hips forward. " _Frag_ , TC."

"It's not _his_ , so it can change," Thundercracker focused on pounding into his mate. "If it makes Star happy to be with Prowl, we shouldn't prevent it."

"Uh huh." Skywarp could barely get that much out as his optics dimmed in pleasure. His Order approved. His Vision seemed happy. He would keep them safe. It was enough. 

As it turned out, timing their overload with Starscream's was a little trickier than they'd anticipated, and the Air Commander's cry shook through the canyon before they were anywhere near charged up to join him. They slowed for a moment, waiting to see what the pair did, and watched with eager whines in their engines as Starscream got Prowl onto his back and dropped down into a straddle over him. 

"Heh. Hope he--unh, likes being ridden," Skywarp said with a snicker.

"From that--reaction--I think so," Thundercracker groaned as Prowl's pleasured cry at being deep inside Starscream echoed over them. "Star had a metacycle with him. He-- _ohhh_ \--gets it."

"Yeah, good," Skywarp panted, and moaned sharply after several more kliks of hard pounding. "Frag they need to hurry up or you need to slow down."

Thundercracker's wings shivered as he looked over to see their Vision riding a Praxian that they both knew Starscream had committed at least part of his spark to and slowed down. "Two overloads, he's-- _ohhh_ \--taking his time now. Playing with him."

Skywarp got his optics to focus enough to get a clear look at Starscream's face. "Uh--yeah, know that look." He pushed back onto Thundercracker with a sudden giggle. "Hope Prowl's the patient type."

"You _know_ he is," Thundercracker slowed his thrusts, dragging his spike against the sensor nodes.

Skywarp's frame shook with humor. "He'd better be if he wants to handle Star in a snit."

"We'll find out soon enough," Thundercracker chuckled, optics dark with lust as he watched the strange pair interface across the river from them. "So long as they both don't get into a snit at once."

"He's gonna pop soon," Skywarp purred as he watched Prowl's optics slowly bleach out. Starscream's wings were spread out over him, shielding him, claiming him. "Hope he realizes what he's got," the black Seeker said, amazed to see that kind of frame language from his self-absorbed Vision. 

Prowl's helm slammed back into the grassy substrate and Starscream leaned in to claim a deep kiss. Even from this far away, Thundercracker and Skywarp could see their glossas dancing together. Starscream's hips moved with sudden intensity and Skywarp lifted his own high in the air, spreading himself out for Thundercracker. "TC he's gonna--"

Thundercracker's hips slammed forward, hard, fast and deep while his hands squeezed and rubbed the wing-joints they were curled around. "Join him," he groaned. "Overload with us."

It was all Skywarp needed and his wings flared up around Thundercracker as he bit down on his fist to muffle his shout, bucking against his mate and listening to their trinemate's scream echoing around them. Thundercracker's vocalizer muted a nanoklik into his own shout, but it did nothing to stop the roar of his engines. Fortunately, Prowl was too lost in his own ecstasy to even notice. The Praxian cried out with Starscream, his deeper voice and slower-pitched engine adding to the cover for the pair he wasn't supposed to know about.

"That was good," Thundercracker mumbled as he sank forward, pressing Skyward to the ground with his mass.

"Really good," Skywarp agreed, and got his groggy systems into some semblance of being online, looking up. 

Starscream was over Prowl, crouched forward, still kissing him, long after the overload had faded. "Hope this treaty thing works," he said, with a sudden touch of worry and melancholy. "You gotta make it work, TC, okay?" Because he couldn't protect his Vision from his own spark.

"One way or another, I'll make it work," Thundercracker swore as the trine Order.

Skywarp relaxed immediately and they stayed cuddled together until the planet's dawn started to lighten the air around them and the Autobot reluctantly drove away. Starscream watched him go, and the moment the sound of his engines had faded away, looked at Thundercracker and Skywarp, who were moving into view. 

"Satisfied?" their Vision asked.

"Yes," Thundercracker flicked his wings in confirmation. "As long as we don't threaten what he wants, he's very agreeable to your control."

"He is," Starscream said with a smile as he looked after the direction Prowl had left in for a few moments before he focused on Thundercracker. "Soundwave commed me three groons ago, we need to get back to base. He's asking questions."

* * *

Starscream's trine settled to watch what Soundwave reported was an interesting section of Ravage's surveillance of Prowl. It was several local solar cycles after they'd returned and sorted out Soundwave on the condition of Megatron. The general announcement would come later, and in Starscream's personal style.

They watched Jazz enter Prowl's office and an exchange on the treaty that quickly revealed that the original plan had been to use it to set the Decepticons up to fracture and then swoop in for the slaughter. It also gave them a solid and relieving look at Prowl's reluctance to use it. Ravage was certain that he hadn't been detected, so what they were watching was likely the real plan and the real reactions.

Starscream couldn't help the growl that came when Jazz began to prod at Prowl's reluctance to fully endorse the plan he'd apparently helped craft.

"That's just dirty," Thundercracker muttered after one particularly hurtful statement from the SpecOps commander.

Starscream rubbed a finger over his mouth, glaring at the screen. The visual wasn't good, but he could see enough of the tilt of Prowl's doorwings to tell that the tactician was unhappy and trying to hide it. 

"Fragger," Skywarp hissed. 

Finally, Jazz left, leaving Prowl looking unsteady and uncertain and he waited in silence in his office for several kliks. Starscream glanced up at Soundwave when the recording didn't cut. "There's more?" 

"Affirmative," Soundwave said. 

Starscream looked back, watching the doorwings hike higher and higher, tension starting to grow in his frame. The mech stood and walked from the office and the visual became sporadic as Ravage had to move to follow him. The symbiot did catch and decrypt a low-security internal comm from Prowl. 

_"Yeah?"_ a voice answered, and the Seekers all twitched at hearing it. That was the yellow terror twin. 

_"Yeah,_ sir?" the red one added. 

_"You are both currently off duty, correct?"_ Prowl asked. _"I am in need of a sparing partner. Will you join me in room two?_

There was a long moment of silence, punctured by the sounds of Ravage moving through the ceiling. 

_"Uh, sure,"_ Sideswipe said. _"Be there in five. Y'want one of us to watch and evaluate, or, something?"_

 _"Just fight."_ An uncharacteristic growl went across the comm, but as Ravage came into place above the training facilities and focused on the Praxian, it wasn't showing in his frame. _"I need a workout and you're the best we have."_

"Is he serious?" Thundercracker said as the twins expressed their agreement and the feed went silent again as Ravage maneuvered himself into a better position. 

"Didn't you say he knows all that stuff?" Skywarp asked, looking at Starscream. 

"Three disciplines," Starscream murmured, but he was distracted. Jazz could be a very dangerous problem if they weren't careful about him. At least it seemed like if everyone upheld their end of the bargaining, nothing would go wrong, and Prowl was not inclined to betray the effort. All the tension came from not being able to trust the other faction.

"Query: which disciplines?" Soundwave asked.

"Master in Teris-Spi and Cy-Kisn, Pre-Master in Diffusion," Starscream responded, his optics locked on the screen as he watched Prowl settle himself standing on one side of the sparing ring. His doorwings relaxed, then folded in and under the hood that covered his back.

"...I didn't know they could do that," Skywarp said. 

"He should just walk around like _that_ ," Thundercracker said dryly. "Break off the chevron and what's not to like?"

Starscream shot him a glare. "It isn't _his_ fault he looks like that," he snapped. 

"Doesn't mean I don't like seeing you with a Praxian frame," Thundercracker said.

" _Whoa,_ " Skywarp said, distracting his trinemates, staring at the video feed as it stabilized and they saw the opening strikes exchanged.

"Impressive," Thundercracker whispered with undisguised awe at seeing the twin terrors they all feared, whether they'd ever admit it or not, handily blocked again and again by a supposedly desk-bound tactician.

"I think I'm glad he ended up in tactics and not a warrior," Starscream murmured.

"Affirmative. Mastery of Teris-Spi confirmed." Soundwave added in the relative silence as the four Decepticon officers watched the Autobot twins be just as shocked at Prowl's skill.

It seemed to be relaxing Prowl, too. It was hard to read his mood entirely without the doorwings, but his features were at least smoothing out, looking like something Starscream was more used to seeing than the tension and stress that Jazz's presence seemed to create. 

"At least he'll be able to keep _you_ in place," Skywarp snickered. Starscream shot him a glare.

"You do need a strong hand to keep you content," Thundercracker cracked a smirk at his Vision. With just Soundwave there, they didn't care. The telepath knew well what they were. He'd known since the start; there was no way to hide it from him.

"I know what I want and I'm not afraid to complain until I get it," Starscream said airily, waving a dismissive hand at his Order.

"Not afraid to _whine_ until you get it," Skywarp said, tweaking Starscream's wings playfully and getting a warning rattle that he ignored. Thundercracker ignored his trinemates, instead staring intently at the screen as the twins decided to up their speed and pressure, only to find every blow matched. They continued to try, their confusion and frustration growing until Prowl suddenly put them on the defensive with a lightning-fast series of strikes.

"Prowl: formidable physical opponent." Soundwave spoke more quietly than usual.

"Just wait until he has his wings back," Starscream purred in anticipation.

Skywarp and Thundercracker exchanged a glance behind his back. 

"Just hope he never turns on you," Thundercracker said, a frown in his voice. 

"He isn't going to turn on me," Starscream said, with all the self-assurance he had learned to express over the vorns. "He's _mine_ and he knows it."

"Prowl: expressed desires for Prowl during peace?" Soundwave asked.

Starscream hummed. "To not be _important_ , of all things."

Soundwave actually hummed, his field briefly licking out with fascination at the statement.

"You found one as strange as our trine," Skywarp shook his helm, then focused on the screen as Prowl dropped Sideswipe with a move too fast to follow and made a lunged for a badly dented Sunstreaker. "Scary one too."

"I prefer _fascinating,_ " Starscream purred, optics bright and fixed on the tactician as he took the second twin down. "And he is _fascinating_." He leaned forward slightly as a much calmer Prowl thanked the twins for their time and offered to waylay Ratchet's wrath.

"Down, boy," Thundercracker said, rolling his optics and crossing his arms over his cockpit. "You realize if you ever frag him off you _might_ just be scrapped." 

"Why would I frag him off?" Starscream asked indignantly. 

"Have you _met_ yourself?" Skywarp snickered.

"It's good he's patient," Thundercracker huffed. "Just remember what he can do when he starts to quiver in anger."

Starscream waved his hand in careless acknowledgement and stood when Ravage's feed cut off. Thundercracker grabbed his shoulder as he started to brush by, stopping him. 

"I mean it," the Order said, voice pitched low. "You may have gotten away with it with Megatron but you won't with him. Be _careful._ " 

"Yeah yeah I _get_ it," Starscream said, shrugging him off. "I can control him, Thundercracker." 

"See that you do," Thundercracker said, and together with Skywarp, watched their Vision walk away.

* * *

Optimus Prime sat behind his desk, his top two officers before him and very much still not getting along. They were civil enough in public at least, but Optimus was all too aware of the strain Jazz put on Prowl over the less-than-perfect responses after what had happened. He'd considered asking Prowl if he wished to talk, but the truth was that he had little to offer that the psudo-Praxian was not well aware of. He hoped that this meeting was to clear the air between them in some meaningful way.

"As you have been informed, for a metacycle Starscream was in control of Mirage's frame," Prowl opened. "When Starscream returned to his frame Megatron did not welcome him back as his Air Commander, but as a berth toy. The end result of which was Starscream deactivating Megatron less than an orn ago. Since then he and I have crafted the terms of a cease-fire with the hope of permanent peace, and Jazz and I have crafted plans that accept it with two very different endgames for your consideration."

Optimus stared at them both for a long moment. "Megatron is deactivated," he finally said, a point that he needed a few kliks to process. "Has this been confirmed?"

"Yes, Jazz confirmed it. Starscream now leads the Decepticons." Prowl canted his doorwings in confirmation.

"I would have expected more ... upset and flare," Optimus said thoughtfully. He looked at Prowl. "May I see this agreement, before you detail your plans?"

"The Decepticons have not been informed yet," Prowl said as he handed over the special write-once only legal datapad with both his and Starscream's official glyphs on it.

"Indeed," Optimus said, frowning, as he began reading. Jazz and Prowl stood still, silent, tense as their Prime's expression shifted into something unreadable as he made his way through the document. At the end, he lifted his head. "And what are your intentions?" 

"As stated, there are two primary plans should you agree to this cease-fire," Prowl said. "The first is to honor it and allow myself to do all negotiating for the peace accord and post-war government structure as per Starscream's demand. The second is to go through the motions and use the negotiations and infighting in the Decepticon camp to cull their numbers before launching an assault to wipe them out."

"Both of which will not be taken well by most," Optimus said with a heavy sigh. "And both of which risk great loss of life."

"Both plans risk less loss of life than continuing this war as it is," Prowl pointed out. "While Starscream likely cannot hold the Decepticons together, he does have the loyalty of the Seekers and Soundwave at a minimum. Those forces are sufficient to cause us great pain if directed by a processor not distracted by the insanity that addled Megatron's priorities."

"True," Optimus said. "Have you both decided upon which option you would prefer, or is there disagreement?"

"We do not agree," Prowl said with an irate flick of his doorwings. "Jazz prefers to slaughter them."

"Kind of how they'd like to slaughter us?" Jazz snapped back. "I'm all for peace but peace with backstabbers and rapists is not _exactly_ what I always dreamed of." 

"That leaves you solidly out of any peace then," Prowl shot back.

" _Stop,_ " Optimus thundered, just enough restraint in his voice to keep it from being a roar, as he slammed his hands on the desk and stood to his full height. "You two fighting gets us nowhere! Jazz," his gaze shifted quite firmly to his TIC, and then his voice softened. "How is Mirage?"

"Coping," Jazz said shortly. 

Optimus nodded once and looked to Prowl. "You believe Starscream is capable of behaving decently, and upholding his end?"

"With the proper incentive, yes," Prowl said with conviction. "He does not wish to lead. Politics are not in his coding. Given the option of a better suited function, he will take it."

"All right," Optimus said, before addressing Jazz. "Mirage was hurt, but he is not the first to have been, and his injuries are not even exclusive. Personal revenge does not belong here, not with an opportunity like this," he held up the document. 

"If personal revenge doesn't belong, what about _other_ personal relations?" Jazz asked, giving Prowl a dark look. 

"My personal reasons are currently aligned with the Autobot cause and the best interests of our race's future," Prowl said calmly. "This cease-fire and the negotiations it leads to would be brought to the Prime and pursued in good faith regardless. The same cannot be said for your plan."

Jazz glared at him for a moment before looking at Prime. "I propose that we agree to the cease-fire, but to keep ready for any break on their part," he said. "If they appear to be following through with their end, then we can reassess."

Optimus tilted his head forward. "We risk nothing by agreeing to a cease-fire. We rarely initiate any conflict."

"Prime, do you understand that any plan Starscream will agree to does require you to stand down from all positions and titles of political power, and bars all futures Primes from legally trying for one?" Prowl asked, wanting to be able to give a firm answer when he was asked.

"I ... understand," Prime said quietly. "I am not so concerned for myself in that regard, but for public reaction."

"Can you present it as a return to the spiritual leadership that the Prime once was?" Prowl asked cautiously. "You will still have the title. The title will belong to a Priest of Primus, rather than a politician or warlord."

"I believe that would be the best way to spin it, yes," Prime said, nodding once. He looked between Prowl and Jazz. "Please keep me informed of every step. Please keep each other safe." 

"Hard ta do when he sneaks away," Jazz said. 

Optimus gave Prowl a curious look.

"I would not sneak if you did not follow," Prowl replied to Jazz with a twitch of genuine frustration. "I realize being a voyeur is all but a requirement for your function, but I do not appreciate being the subject. You were the one who wanted me to continue with Starscream so we could have better insight into what is going on among the Decepticons, and now to aid us in negotiations. That you now disagree with my conclusions based on that intel does not change the situation." He shifted his attention to Optimus. "You are perhaps more aware than anyone just how little I can be compromised by emotions when planning and directing a battle. I believe Jazz is unreasonably angry that he does not see me more broken by the events that hurt Mirage so much."

"I'm _angry_ that you didn't come to me first, and that you would consider Starscream for anything _besides_ a way ta get into peace talks," Jazz said. "We talked about this! You _agreed_ with me, you _wanted_ to take him down! And that changes with _one_ good 'face?"

"No, it changed because after meeting him in his own frame I believed there is a possibility that he is not playing us," Prowl countered sharply. "Again, as I told you, if it was only about the interface I would have come to an Autobot. You, Prime or Ratchet most likely. Why am I allowed to change my plans to suit the newest data only when it suits you? Are you _trying_ to drive me from the Autobots?"

"I'm _worried_ about you, mech!" Jazz said. "I'm worried about security risks, and the potential for treason, and how you've never been through something like this, and what he could do with that knowledge!"

"I thought you'd vetted me better than that," Prowl hissed as his doorwings quivered with remembered pain and building anger. "You're right, I haven't been though something like _this_ , no one has that I'm aware of. However, just because I gave a seal to him doesn't mean I've never had a serious relationship before or had one turn bad."

"Jazz, Prowl has proven himself capable of keeping his personal feelings restrained when it is it necessary," Prime said with a heavy sigh. "Until you have some reason beyond _your_ personal anger to accuse him of anything, please, let it go." 

Jazz was tense, but he nodded. Prowl forced himself to stand down, taking a moment to fully collect himself and settle his armor, doorwings, face and field into the poised, neutral stance he was infamous for.

"Do you need anything more from me?" Prime asked.

Prowl paused, regarding the leader he both hated and respected, and had followed and guided for so very long. "Will you be content as a non-political spiritual leader?"

"I have never tried it before," Optimus said. "I don't know. I am willing to do it to end a war. Megatron's deactivation gives us a rare opportunity not to be wasted."

"It does," Prowl inclined his helm. "When you sign the cease-fire, I will contact Starscream and initiate the next stage of talks."

Optimus nodded, looked at the document, ands signed without hesitation before handing it back. "Cybertron's future is with you," he said.

"I will do all I can to ensure it is peaceful, free and thrives," Prowl promised with the same absolute dedication he had when he'd first sworn his oath to Optimus Prime.

* * *

Jazz flitted around his quarters, more nervous about the next several joors than made any sense, and he knew it, but he still was. Prowl was one of the few mecha he considered a friend of any kind. He liked the mech, at least most orns. He hadn't been joking when he said he was worried. This wasn't the first time he'd seen one mecha take advantage of the emotional vulnerability of another. Pit, he did it as part of his job. So he knew what he was looking at and he knew how to stop it. Prowl needed a lover, and Jazz would be damned if he was going to allow _Starscream_ to take advantage of that. Even if that meant he had to take the job himself. It wasn't as if Mirage was at all capable of it.

The door pinged right on time, exactly what he expected from Prowl and he moved to open it. The Praxian stood on the other side, his field pulled tight and frame tense. Jazz couldn't blame him. After the scene with Prime and a few others lately, Jazz knew he wasn't on Prowl's trusted ally list anymore. That hurt more than it had any right to, but Jazz had worked hard to make it on that list and it stung to lose the vaunted spot to a _Decepticon_ , to Starscream, no less.

"Hey," he greeted, smiling warmly as he stepped aside to welcome Prowl in. "Got some high grade if it sounds good?"

A confused look flickered across Prowl's features, but he nodded and stepped inside, sitting when Jazz motioned him to a couch. "I take it this is not work-related."

"Nah," Jazz said, and shrugged. "You an' me an' work isn't my favorite lately. Prolly not yours either."

"No," Prowl admitted as he accepted the cube. "It has been a long time since we have been at such odds."

To Jazz's emotional pleasure, he sipped from the cube without concern. So all trust hadn't been lost. Prowl didn't feel he was a threat. And wasn't that a relief.

Jazz sat down next to him, fiddling with the cube in his hands as he watched Prowl drinking for a few moments. "Look, I ... don't take it well when one of mine gets hurt. I take it less well when I can't go after the mech that did it. And I think that muddled everything up because I really am concerned, and I really do want to help. You, that is. I like ya pretty well, wanna make sure you're in good hands."

Prowl paused and regarded him, a slightly confused tilt to his doorwings. "You ... like me?" 

"Fond 'a ya, yeah," Jazz said, shrugging. "We've only worked together how long? Not that many I'd trust keepin' Prime in line. Thought you were doin' pretty well before, guess I was wrong."

"I was fine," Prowl shrugged, still rather bewildered by the subject. "There is always room for improvement. It was allowing hope to override common sense that lead us here. I knew it was out of character for Mirage. I wanted to believe more than I wanted to be correct."

"If I'd been makin' sure you were takin' care of better, we wouldn't have ended up there in the first place," Jazz said, shrugging, and cocked his head at the Praxian. "I at least wanna make sure you're bein' takin' care of now."

Prowl took a sip and looked at Jazz, trying to understand something he realized should be obvious, but his processors refused to make any sense of. It was annoying in the extreme, but for once Prowl was sure it was not because Jazz was out to annoy him. "I do not understand what you believe you could have done differently."

"I coulda had it so there wasn't a place for him to take in your life," Jazz said. "Not that I mind so much what's come of it, but I didn't realize how much you needed that. I wanna make sure he's right for you, _good_ for you." He brushed his field out in a caress. "Somethin' you want."

"Jazz, ordering someone, particularly Mirage, into a long-term relationship with me goes against _everything_ we say we're fighting for," Prowl reminded him quietly.

Jazz laughed. "Mech, I love Mirage but even I know that that would be the worst thing I could do for either of you. Nah, I've got no plans to order someone in with you. Actually I, thought I could try it out myself."

An utterly bewildered look crossed Prowl's features. "Do you have any idea what you're suggesting?"

"Yeah, I'm suggesting that anything Starscream can do I can do better," Jazz said dryly. "Gimmie a chance, let me figure out what you need."

"I can tell you," Prowl said simply. "I want a mate. Someone who enjoys spending time with me for no reason other than it's me. Someone who enjoys talking politics, hard and soft sciences, philosophy, tactics, the future and history. Someone who enjoys playing games and _laying_ with me as much as 'facing me. Someone who can see themselves _living_ with me for a very long time. Someone I'm willing to risk my secrets with. He earned my spark. That's what you're up against."

"I can try that," Jazz said earnestly. "You're always so closed off, even when I tried ta get ta know you you seemed to shut me out." He shifted closer, lifting his hand to Prowl's jaw, stroking down his neck. "Let me try."

Prowl hesitated, then nodded gradually and allowed the sensual touch to continue, accepting the warming arousal that it brought. His optics dimmed slightly with the soft pleasure. "Tell me which of my secrets you know."

"I know you keep your secrets close," Jazz said, taking Prowl's cube and setting it aside with his so he could better focus both of his hands. "I know 'Raj learned some things but I don't know what and he isn't going to tell me. This isn't your first frame, but that part's obvious to anyone who knows what ta look for."

"This is my fourth frame," Prowl leaned into the contact, willing himself to believe that Jazz wasn't playing him for a one night event.

"Fourth?" Jazz hummed, and let his mouth press in to follow the path his fingers had been taking. "That sig I saw only had three."

"Yes," Prowl flicked his doorwings and allowed his optics to drift off. "My original existence was scrubbed from the records."

Jazz lifted his head to look at him as his fingers continued to play downward. "I'd like to know, when you feel ready ta tell," he said. "And not just for intel."

Prowl nodded and reached out to stroke Jazz's cheek, then throat. "Do you like to snuggle?"

"I'm _Ops_ ," Jazz said with a chuckle and returned to kissing down Prowl's chest. "I'd be crazy if I didn't like ta snuggle."

Prowl paused, caught completely off guard by the response. "Why do Ops like to snuggle?"

"Hm?" Jazz lifted his gaze as he slid off the couch and settled on his knees in front of Prowl. "Oh--it's a safety thing. Training's rough. Sometimes worse than the real deal dependin' on the cards ya get. But soon as ya finish an assignment ya got someone right there ta hold ya. Means it's safe. So it just starts ta feel like safe, and if you're stuck somewhere dangerous and need ta calm down, snuggling is pretty hardwired ta kick in that feeling. Helps ta calm down and think straight and get out. That's how Whiplash trained me, that's how I've trained every single one of mine."

"That makes sense," Prowl accepted it and logged it in his file of how to respond to Ops agents in the future. His gaze was drawn to Jazz's position and he hummed as his fingers slid to Jazz's chin. "I prefer pleasure to be mutual."

Jazz cocked his head and licked the spike cover anyway before sliding up. "Not even for a warm-up?" he asked curiously.

"If it's something you enjoy that much," Prowl allowed, though he was still doubtful. Jazz didn't teek right to be excited by the idea.

"Nah," Jazz said, coming even with him. "Just somethin' I'm used ta mecha likin', y'know?" He pressed kisses along Prowl's jaw. "What's ya favorite?"

Prowl shifted to angle for a kiss and sank into it, allowing Jazz to lead until they parted. "Desire," he murmured as his fingers stroked along Jazz's bumper. "Tactile if truly needed."

"Desire?" Jazz murmured, questioningly, and pushed Prowl down and back. He _had_ to make this work. "Just wantin' ta be desired? Or is it feeling desire?" He deepened the kiss, his fingers dancing over plating that loosened to his touch.

A low moan escaped Prowl's vocalizer. "My desire, and being desired," he answered as he tried to give as good as he got. His frame was warming, though it was slow going. He was determined to give Jazz a chance even if it didn't feel right. It wasn't as if he had any better a track record of successful relationships than the saboteur, at least not by his own standards. All in all, he figured, why not? 

At least Jazz seemed determined to take the time to make him warm fully, and as the kliks and breems passed by Prowl could absolutely feel the evidence of Jazz's reputation. He knew the right spots to push and tweak, where to go hard and where to back off. 

If it _was_ just the 'facing, like Jazz supposed, this would likely bring about some changes. There was no way Starscream would match up with Jazz on pure skill. It simply wasn't going to happen. Not that Prowl was any match to Jazz either, but no one was contending that he should be.

Doorwings fluttered as the kissing continued and black hand drew more and more moans, then soft keens of _want_ from Prowl. Shameless desire resonated through Prowl's field.

"Berth," the Praxian eventually gasped.

"Mmm, absolutely," Jazz purred, and moved up and back, drawing Prowl along with him with light, expert touches that coaxed and pulled without any ounce of force actually being exerted on Prowl's frame. Just wanting _more_ of that touch was enough. 

At one point Jazz got him turned around so he was the one moving backwards and when his legs hit the berth he sat, and Jazz climbed over him, kissing deeply. He took Prowl's face in his hands, holding him as his glossa swirled out against him. It was enough of a demand to control that Prowl relaxed into submission without even thinking about it. His hands moved along Jazz's frame until one worked up to rub a stubby sensor horn.

It made Jazz purr, well-honed engines rumbling against him as they settled there and kissed, Jazz nipping gently, teeking for the things that made Prowl's field flare the hottest and refining even as he explored. "Back," he finally moaned.

There was no hesitation in the motion of Prowl's compliance. A bit of care so his doorwings didn't get crumpled, but he was soon flat on his back on the berth and kissing Jazz hard as the SpecOps mech moved in above him. 

When Jazz finally broke away it was to slide back and get in between Prowl's legs, hooking his arms under his knees and pushing them forward, spreading Prowl completely wide. He nudged their hips together, optics bright and wanting. Prowl's reward for sliding his valve cover open and exposing Jazz to the heat of the ready equipment was a rush of _yes-desire_ through Jazz's field. It was a desire Prowl's field answered clearly back with as Jazz's spike cover slid back and housing rubbed up against platelets, smearing lubricant between them. 

"Y'pretty hot like this, y'know?" Jazz gasped as he rolled his hips, spike starting to extend between them. "Shoulda tried this sooner."

"I've been told," Prowl moaned, his optics flickering with the surges of pleasure. His frame was relaxed in Jazz's grip, trusting that he wouldn't be injured.

Jazz hummed deeply, and pressed so far forward that he was able to get his mouth against Prowl's neck, licking and sucking at some of the primary visible cables as he angled himself and pushed his spike in for a shallow thrust, half-extended. "Should get told more often," he said, and thrust again, spike another span longer and harder.

Prowl simply moaned, flexing and cycling his valve around the welcome intrusion. His helm tilted back, offering his throat to Jazz. In some ways, yes, he still trusted this mech. To be truthful, he wanted answers to the same questions and doubts Jazz had raised. Could he be happy with a less troublesome lover? Did it matter that Jazz had worked with him for so long and never once indicated this kind of desire, while Starscream had worked with him for just over a metacycle and in that time had gone from wanting to destroy him to considering _peace_ to be with him? 

Powerful processors crunched away at the question while another set worked on the question of what would happen if he _did_ abandon Starscream. Jazz would certainly push the question of revenge again, and even if they decided to push on for negotiations, there would be continued animosity between the former enemies. 

And what would Starscream do to _him?_ And the greater concern, what would Starscream's _trine_ do to him? 

Jazz's thrusts were perfectly angled and timed, the mech played his frame like a well-loved instrument, coaxing out cries and shudders with ease, and there was a finesse to his movements that Starscream simply did not have. Not yet, anyway. 

Was it just about a skilled lover?

That question was the last Prowl had as his everything whited out with an intense overload like few he'd ever experienced. It rolled on and on in undulating waves that would crest and then calm just enough for him to grasp what was happening only to crest again in the complete white-out of thought and frame. Ever so distantly, he was aware that the same was happening to Jazz, and the sensation and pleasure didn't even end with the crackling out charge. Jazz just shifted, resettled, and started all over. 

Much later, when even Jazz couldn't take any more, the two frames panted and cooled together, lax on the berth. Jazz was collapsed over Prowl, helm on his chest as he fought against slipping into recharge to handle the massive energy and data sequences that had been going through his processor. "Pit, how are y' not offline?" he asked, half laughed.

"My processors are not inclined to do so," Prowl said simply, though he was panting just as hard as the lover he was still burried deep inside. "Recharge. I will be here when you boot."

"Mmkay," Jazz said, and snuggled in against Prowl's chest, dropping offline.

Prowl lay there, content to drift in the half-aware reality that passed for exhausted recharge for him while his systems processed enough energon to catch up. It was a nice sensation, even if it rarely lasted much more than a groon, and typically only a breem or two.

In all, he was now sure that it wasn't the interfacing that drew him to Starscream. It was possible that Jazz was capable of being the mate he desired, but the odds were not what he called favorable, even though they were more favorable than either Mirage or Starscream's had been before Starscream began to court him as Mirage.

He bit back a groan at the complicated mess this was and worked on the contingencies for being left by Starscream when it was no longer in the Seeker's best interest to have him close.

* * *

Soundwave looked around at the gathering--as strange as any he'd seen in his life--and carefully monitored the two Autobots. He was here, he'd been told, to work out a peace treaty, and the skeleton outline for a new governmental system, both with Prowl. He was happy to do that and agreed that he was the most appropriate Decepticon to do so. He understood why Prowl was here and also agreed with that choice.

The rest of them, though, Jazz and the Command Trine, seemed to be here only in order to make everyone else tense. His cassettes were spread out, monitoring every move the others made, and would do so for the duration of this meeting. 

More like a lock-in, really, until they were satisfied they had something to start with. There would only be breaks when either he or Prowl required recharge. One of his cassettes or Jazz, or possibly both, would bring energon as required. Once those present were satisfied, Megatron's deactivation, the Prime standing down as a political leader and the treaty would all be announced. At which point he expected for there to be devastating fighting, but he agreed with Starscream that this planet was a better setting for that than their own. 

Another thing to consider was the amount of time they would be able to spend working. Taking even a metacycle, here, would be noted by the indigenous lifeforms. They needed to work in a matter of decaorns, or less. They would stay in this warehouse--a location of the Autobots' choosing, some secure facility belonging to the nation that had claimed this mass of earth--until they were finished, and hope that questions and unrest from the organics did not create problems. 

"Prowl: ready?" he queried.

"Affirmative," Prowl canted his doorwings and sat down at a conference table with two chairs brought from the Ark. "Do you have any drafts for me to review?" he asked as he plugged into the conference table. 

"Affirmative," Soundwave echoed, and passed over his work while simultaneously accepting the uplink to a read-only version of Prowl's personal files, drafts, outlines, and notes. Starscream had talked about this substantial work before, and Soundwave found himself pleased and mildly surprised when its quality was confirmed. This was not the work of a few orns that Prowl would have prepared since the first contact had been made. This was something he had spent a very, very long time on. As he reached the end of the file, he began to grasp the full extent of the time put into it. The earliest notes were from before the war. Well before the war.

It was impressive as a whole, and took him much longer to review than it took Prowl to finish his work, and when he finally focused back outward, the Praxian was waiting patiently. "Soundwave: suggests reviewing points on which we do not agree," he said calmly.

"Agreed," Prowl said. "What point first?"

In response, Soundwave uploaded a carefully organized set of points that he wished to discuss, each accompanied by a precise numerical arrangement to indicate how important that point was to him, and how likely he believed it could be altered and for what cost. Prowl skimmed the filed and returned it with one of his own with the same ranking format. Soundwave nodded his approval and they set to work on the most important points in complete silence.

They went on like that, uninterrupted and oblivious to the outside world, until a comm ping sought his attention. 

::Boss, time to recharge and refuel,:: Frenzy told him. 

Soundwave gently hushed the symbiot, but he knew that he would give in at the next ping, which came from Rumble some groons later. He informed Prowl that he would be taking a break.

The Praxian canted his wings agreeably but went back to work. Though the processors were impossible to scan for more than the most basic of thoughts, Soundwave's effort was rewarded with the knowledge that the timing was expected and Prowl, while focused, was reasonably relaxed and not deceitful. The tri-colored Seeker walking in was the opposite, but it was Starscream, so that was a given. Comfortable with his safety, Soundwave left to one of the prepared berthrooms where Ravage and Laserbeak would stand guard for his recharge period.

In the conference room, Prowl's doorwings have Starscream a flick of welcome, but Prowl himself remained focused on his work.

Starscream rolled his optics in response and stepped forward, running his hands down Prowl's back in a massage. He immediately pressed into the touch with a low sound of pleasure. "Think you should get some recharge too," he said, as his fingers ghosted up the back of Prowl's neck and then moved up to his helm. "Your processors need the rest as much as any."

"Will you be joining me?" Prowl rolled into the contact as his armor loosened fractionally and his optics dimmed.

"You think there is actually a chance that I wouldn't be?" Starscream chuckled. "Up with you, you're getting some recharge whether you like it or not."

Prowl allowed a chuckle to slip from his vocalizer along with the good humor and desire in his field caressing Starscream's. He complied without fuss, willingly going where the Seeker led him. While his outward display was his typical stoic stance, his field and to a lesser extent his doorwings betrayed his desire to be close to the Seeker at his side.

It made Starscream preen unabashedly to be the focus of such attention and desire and he led Prowl into the second makeshift berthroom that had been constructed for the purpose of these negotiations. It was halfway across the building from Soundwave, and there was a modest berth of the quality one would expect to find aboard the Ark or the Nemesis, a small store of energon, but little else to fill the space that was separated from the rest of the warehouse with plywood and sheet metal. 

"So now that I have you here," Starscream purred as Prowl followed to the berth and moved onto his back as the Seeker climbed on top of him. "Whatever shall I do with you?"

Prowl reached up to stroke Starscream's cockpit and locked optics with him as he unlocked his chest plates in an offering that was more a request. "Sparks?" he whispered, hopeful but not expecting.

Starscream's vents skipped a rotation and stuttered a little in surprise, optics flickering with the same. "Do you think this is ... appropriate timing?" he asked carefully, but it wasn't a refusal.

Prowl's hand reached up to caress the black faceplates. "You are no longer hiding what spark won my affection. I am ready when you are."

Starscream tilted his head a little. "You are aware of the many ways in which this whole thing could still go terribly wrong," he said. "There is a significant chance of one of us deactivating in the fallout. You still want this?"

"Yes," Prowl said with absolute certainty. "You have reminded me of something I learned, and then forgot, long ago. Take what joys you can in life, because tomorrow is never guaranteed."

"I'm surprised you _ever_ forgot that lesson in a war," Starscream said. "That becomes most mecha's mantra." He leaned in to touch their helms together. "I have to ask Thundercracker first," he said, and sounded actually embarrassed about it.

"I forgot before the war began. Focusing on work kept me sane when my last lover left me. Then the war took even more focus to stay alive and keep my troops alive. Then I had too much rank to accept what few offers there may have been." Prowl gave a shaky smile. "I understand. He is trine, and your Order."

"It's more that I'm their Vision," Starscream murmured as he sent off the comm. "If we merge, there is a chance of kindling. A Vision is allowed to merge or kindle with anyone he chooses but before doing so, if there is no previous understanding or arrangement, must seek his Order's permission. A Vision's procreative functions belong to his trine first, his mate second, if they are not the same." 

Prowl's optics nearly bleached white in shock. "Even without intent, you could kindle?"

"Anyone can _think_ they intend not to kindle," Starscream said. "But one moment of doubt, or desire, or longing, well, the energy is _there_ , and it only needs a small push to take, if the timing is right. Small odds, and I promise you, I _do not_ want to kindle. Not right now. But I'm programmed down to my CNA to want it eventually." 

"I understand," Prowl relaxed significantly. "If Thundercracker agrees, it is a risk I would take with you."

::If you wish, you may,:: Thundercracker commed back with warmth in his voice. ::His spark is strong.::

"He agrees," Starscream purred, leaning in for a kiss as his hand moved to Prowl's bumper, tracing the headlights. "Do you want to have the how-Seekers-raise-their-offspring discussion or are the odds satisfactorily low enough to skip it?"

"The odds are low enough," Prowl moaned with a flare of pleasure as his hands continued to stroke Starscream's cockpit, then his chest vents before moving up to the shoulder vents. "I want to _feel_ you."

Starscream hummed deeply as his wings flared wide -- _Mine_ \-- and was gratified to see Prowl's doorwings quiver in a happy submission/return claim. Leaning in to continue the kiss as first his cockpit shifted and tucked back, slipping into subspace, before his chest creased down the center, folding and shifting in an intricate transformation sequence that left his crystal bare. 

This was intensely, incredibly stupid, and he knew that. 

He somehow, really, didn't care. 

Still, it was a relief to watch Prowl's sequence follow his by less than a half dozen nanokliks. The heavy chest folded out and down while the powerful grounder pursuit engine shifted towards Prowl's abdominal region. Then all thought of watching fled Starscream as the ice blue, nearly white sparklight lapped at him from the bare crystal under him.

Part of him hesitated--he was abrasive, prideful, cowardly, deceitful when it suited him, frequently irritating and borderline obnoxious--and the thought of Prowl seeing all that was ... less than pleasant. 

But there really was no turning back, not when his crystal spiraled open and his bright yellow spark surged forward to grab hold of Prowl's, entangling the two spherical lights together. He was flooded with his first unfiltered sense of _Prowl_ and his native curiosity took over. The spark against his, reaching out for him, was at least as curious as his own, and it was _bright_. Far brighter than the frame it supported suggested. It was bright, fiercely determined and aggressive, but it was also tired, so very tired of fighting with its frame. Here, without those processors filtering everything, Starscream _believed_ this spark to belong in an airframe.

In the time it took Starscream to understand that and take in just how different the spark was from the presentation, he began to catch some of Prowl's reactions to what he was learning. There was no surprise, nothing about Starscream's core self was well hidden in his demeanor to the world, but he felt Prowl focus on his most negative traits and _prod_ them. Not even his trine did that, but his lover wanted to know the _why_ , not just the what.

~Why?~ Starscream asked, pulling away defensively.

Prowl let him do so. ~I want to understand.~

Starscream shifted back and forth indecisively, the energy between their sparks ebbing and flowing as he thought. ~This isn't some kind of pity jack off, got it?~ he said sharply when he pushed forward again.

~Understood,~ Prowl said, and sent a sense-reminder that he didn't seek pity for what he had been through.

It calmed Starscream a little and the spark opened forward, showing itself for what it was, and how it had been created. 

Some things were natural--the pride, certainly, which on its own was the source of plenty more unpleasant traits, and even to some extent the cowardice, though that was more a product of a love of _life_ and an unwillingness to risk it for something as flimsy as ideals and values. The selfishness, as well, and the volatile temper were inherent qualities, but Prowl could also see where they had become support to land on when nothing else was going well. They had been pushed to the forefront in an environment that cultivated bitterness and competition, forced peers against each other and judged unfairly. 

Perhaps the most shaking event in the Seeker's past was one that Prowl already knew very well, at least from another side. Not the uphill fight for a Seeker to be accepted into an Iacon university, not the continual dismissal of his research for being young, not even the unhealthy, paranoid atmosphere Megatron had woven around those close to him to keep them always in line and always looking down instead of up. 

Skyfire.

~Too few could understand how one could work with a mech after such a breakup,~ Prowl murmured as memories and emotions flickered by his awareness. ~Too many eager to send you back to Vos when he was lost and your guilt could not be proven.~

~I lost my _funding_ ,~ Starscream hissed. ~I lost my tenure, my work was all but blacklisted. They ruled me innocent and I _still_ lost everything! What good pretending I wasn't the _best_ , what good staying silent as others were praised for foolishness, just to fit in and be welcomed when they would turn on me so easily? There is no good in being _nice_ and _quiet_ \--~

\-- _Seekers should be seen and not heard_ \--

~--Not when everyone is waiting to force you back out for someone _else's_ mistake.~

Prowl hummed, agreeing and offered a few memories of his own. That same corruption he'd faced, enforced and rejected across four designations and every strata of society. The shame he felt when he'd realized that he had not been fair and impartial. The efforts he made every orn to put aside his prejudices and be _fair_. The knowledge that he had failed to do so and the refusal to give up on the idea.

That fighting Aerial spark took his failure and fueled anger with it. The tac-net that created Crucible and then Prowl took that rage and turned it into a silent killer. Memories deeply hidden flickered by. Vigilante attacks that even Starscream recognized on occasion.

A plan, detailed and ready, never implemented only because Megatron attacked first.

It startled Starscream a little to see that level of viciousness planned out to such perfectly excruciating detail, but there it was, right in front of him, the plans that would have left the Senate burning and the Prime forever destroyed. ~I would have cheered my spark out for such an event,~ he purred deeply.

~If Megatron has not moved so quickly, I would have had time, and history would have played out very differently,~ Prowl's spark snuggled into the approval-pleasure being offered. ~I disliked him even then, though.~

~He was ... charismatic,~ Starscream said. ~He promised to end the bigoted influence of the Prime and the rest of the grounders.~ Bittersweet. ~He valued me.~

~He was,~ Prowl agreed. ~I went to several of his early speeches and rallies. I only saw a mech who was angry that he was not the one in charge, rather than angry about the system itself.~

~You saw him better than I did,~ Starscream said, and Prowl was aware of just how rare such an admittance was. The admittance was accepted and greeted with the warmth, approval and pride _in Starscream_ that Prowl felt.

Though Prowl didn't say it, he couldn't hide that he wasn't surprised. _Master manipulator_ was Prowl's repeated assessment of the warlord, right up there with _worse than Sentinel_. The reactions were not meant to hurt, but there was no hiding that the more Prowl learned the more he saw how Megatron had so easily trapped the angry, hurting Seeker.

Starscream sighed dramatically and didn't outright agree with the assessment, but very obviously didn't deny it, either. His spark flicked out, coaxing along the ice blue light. ~He's gone now.~

~Finally,~ Prowl murmured with a gentle caress of his spark and offered to deepen the merge if Starscream still wished to.

It was carefully considered, and then accepted. ~You know there will be times when you wish to strangle me,~ the Seeker purred. ~It is inevitable.~ And he took some pride in that fact. 

~Then I likely will,~ Prowl said simply and evenly. ~I have no problem reminding you of your place in the universe, up or down from your opinion.~

~Hmm.~ Starscream's head tilted back with a low, pleasured groan. ~You're in for a wild ride then.~

~And you will reach your pinnacle with my guidance,~ Prowl purred with a deep moan as his fingers clenched against Starscream's sides.

~Oh you think so?~ Starscream chuckled, spark thrusting forward with hard, steady pulses. ~I'm sure that will be something to behold.~

~When I focus my efforts, the results do tend to be spectacular,~ Prowl pointed out with a pride that was both unlike and very much like Starscream's own. ~You have the potential to use my focus to your advantage.~

_All you have to do is **want** to._

The strength and will behind that statement--more of a _truth_ \--made Starscream keen in joy between their sparks as they clutched together in throbbing, shaking ecstasy that was as completely mutual as Prowl expected it to be, _because_ he expected it to be.

As they came down from it, vents running on top speed, armor closing back up, Starscream settled down over Prowl with humming engines. "Well that was fun," he purred.

"Informative," Prowl hummed, pleased and relaxed from the pleasure. He reached up to caress Starscream's face with light fingers. "The four of us will make for a formidable unit."

"Indeed," Starscream said, with a thrill through his field that Prowl was so willing to accept his culture and the truth that there was no separating him from his trine. So few understood or were agreeable to accepting the Seeker way that relationships outside of their own kind rarely worked, and, truthfully, it had in all likelihood been the driving force behind the exclusionary ideals they lived by. 

Of course Prowl understood that he was not part of the trine, and knew he was in no way beholden to either Thundercracker or Skywarp, but if he wanted Starscream, he had to take them too, which meant they would all be in this together. The other two Seekers were not beholden to Prowl either, but as they valued their Vision they would value his lover. That was the way most alliances in Vos were built. Not upon the trine as outsiders believed, but upon the bonds between trines.

"Who among the scientists would you be inclined to be civil enough with to work with?" Prowl asked as he relaxed further, enjoying the warmth and sense of safety Starscream's presence coaxed out of him.

Starscream cringed. "Nn. Perceptor is decent, and surprisingly intelligent. He may be the only one."

"None among the Decepticons?" Prowl continued his light stroking, enjoying the time to learn his lover's frame and not be too hurried.

"Well, what are we saying by 'work with?'" Starscream asked. "Would I be willing to put my designation alongside any of the Decepticons who consider themselves to be scientists? Certainly not. Would I be willing to let my work reside in the same space as theirs? Certainly, so long as Wheeljack was not included in the mix."

"I was looking for those you are willing to work in the same facility as," Prowl hummed. "Wheeljack gets his own area well outside city limits for good reason. We don't let him work inside the Ark for the most part. Certainly not on anything with a mass of greater than a quarter ton. He is brilliant in a creative way, but not even he contests that he's a walking explosives hazard."

"And some more sense to be found among the Autobots," Starscream hummed. "Will wonders never cease." He nuzzled his helm against Prowl's. "Provided that workspaces are designated and respected, _I_ can work with anyone."

"That is good," Prowl returned the affection. "By my understanding, most surviving scientists worth the designation are Autobots, though I admit there is much we do not know about the neutral survivors."

Starscream tilted his wings in agreement as he lay his head fully down, content to just be still and relax. "We've never done this before," he mused. "Not really."

"We haven't. I've missed it," Prowl murmured. "I look forward to when it will be in our quarters. Has there been any thought to how that will work with the trine?"

"I will choose where I rest and recharge," Starscream said. "Though my Order may formally request my presence if he feels I have been away too long. I _can_ decline, but if it's gone long enough for a formal request, it would be ... in bad taste. Generally, the lovers and mates of those in the oldest trine of any network will stay in their space, if they are welcome." He smiled fondly, remembering the excessive numbers that could be reached in such a network, leading to sometimes a score or more Seekers recharging together. "But you will never be required to spend time with my trine."

Prowl hummed, his fingers still light, absent caresses on Starscream's plating. "Have they made any indication of my welcome?"

"They have made no indication either way, which is what you want," Starscream said. "An indication that you are unwelcome is what to avoid. Unless that is given, you are assumed to be welcome." He lifted his head a little, looking at Prowl. "It's a good thing that they have said nothing."

Prowl smiled in returned. "Then I will take it as such. I know you will need to create, and I would expect soon, but do you want to?" he asked softly.

Starscream cocked his head and his wings flicked briefly at the question. "Do I want to," he repeated, and then gave a thoughtful hum as he considered his answer. "I'm a Vision. Unless I deactivate first, I will carry for my trine." He shrugged his wings. "Desire isn't really part of the equation."

"Would it be for me?" Prowl asked, not quite sure of the intent but driven by his core nature to pursue a line of questioning that he had begun.

"For you, it..." Starscream said, then trailed off and was quiet for almost a full klik. "I ... don't know," he finally admitted. "Before the war such issues were handled by the Trine Elect; if I wanted to create with you, we would have to present our case and they would have to grant their approval. I can't say I've ever thought about creating with anyone but my trine." He cocked his head at Prowl. "Do you want to?" 

"Not particularly, but the odds of any mech with creator coding and a steady lover not being driven to do so once the war is settled is negligible, no matter how ill-suited they might be to raise a creation," Prowl murmured. "There is more than a 83% probability that even those without a mate will feel the need to kindle once resources are plentiful again. It's already begun among the Autobots on Earth."

"Some Decepticons, too," Starscream said, causing Prowl to startle. "But I only know that because I like to read Soundwave's files. Personally I wouldn't trust most of them with a cybercat, much less a sparkling." 

"I would say the same about roughly a quarter of Autobots," Prowl agreed. "Ensuring the sparklings are well cared for will be a massive effort. How many of those thinking about it are Seekers?"

"Maybe half," Starscream said easily. "I know that Dirge, Ramjet and Thrust will probably create as soon as there is stability, if they survive that long. Haven't seen the Rainmakers in ages, but I'd bet they're thinking about it too. Thundercracker and Skywarp are _obvious_ about it."

"Then yours is the frametype that will survive, and you will finally be allowed to forget Praxus," Prowl purred softly. "Only two are left that I know of. Smokescreen won't carry if he has any option in the matter, and Bluestreak is under even heavier medical restrictions than I am."

"You _do_ know how to sweet talk a mech," Starscream purred back with a viciously satisfied grin before focusing in on a different part of Prowl's statement. "Are you able to carry at all anymore?"

"I honestly don't know," Prowl admitted. "So long as the tac-net is active, I am highly doubtful. It draws far too much energy to leave enough to sustain the newspark if I cannot even have my wings back. The protocols and hardware still exist, at least on the protoform level, though they have long been deactivated. Almost everything in my frame is now for maximum energy conservation to feed the tac-net."

Starscream hummed in understanding and lay his head back down. That would need to be addressed, eventually, but much later down their hypothetical road when they had the time, resources, and luxury to attempt to reformat Prowl's frame. But it would be good to get Prowl thinking about now, because some of those answers could take time. "If you did create, how much do you care about raising the sparkling yourself?"

Prowl had to think on that as he chased the variables down to form a coherent answer. "I would like it to know I was a creator. As I am now, I am painfully ill-suited to most aspects of raising a psychologically healthy sparkling. For its own good it would need to have someone else be its primary caretaker. Without the tac-net I do not know what I would be like. I have experienced so much since I was last normal. What memories I have of that mech are likely no longer relevant to who I would be."

"Good," Starscream said, and that was something of a relief. "Any creation that I carry belongs to my trine, not the sire, and if you want to create and can't carry, that really only leaves me. It doesn't mean you can't be involved or that it can't know who you are, but Thundercracker would take direct legal responsibility for it."

Prowl thought about that and nodded, his field smooth with acceptance. "Any creation you carry should be raised primarily by Seekers, as it will be one. So the Vision carries, the Order is its legal guardian, and the full trine raises it, along with lovers and mates?"

"Yes," Starscream purred, delighted at Prowl's quick uptake and acceptance of the idea. "It's a very communal thing. Legal guardianship is more of a technicality than anything--to ensure that someone is responsible for its upgrades and medical care, mostly. My carrier was mated to the Vision and Action of another trine--they were the sires. Their Order was still unmated when I received my adult upgrades. My carrier's Action and Order were both mated to another Vision, and his Action and Order were mated. So I had my carrier's trine, my carrier's mates' trine, and my carrier's trine's mate's trine." He grinned up at Prowl. "And we had a relatively simple structure."

"It sounds like you would never have lacked for attention," Prowl smiled, the warmth and approval in his field only faintly shadowed by longing. "How many do Seekers normally carry at once?"

"One to three," Starscream said. "And have you _ever_ met a Seeker who didn't demand to be the center of attention at all times? We _need_ that many adults. Though I wasn't the only one, there were five others in that same structure." He rolled his optics. "Slagging attention thieves."

Prowl didn't stop the deep chuckle that rumbled up from his chassis. "You could have been the only one and still not gotten all the attention you felt you deserved, I am quite certain. Thundercracker seems reasonably content to not be a focal point."

"Thundercracker's just better at hiding it," Starscream said dismissively, but it was also spoken with fondness. "That's my theory, at least."

"I am looking forward to knowing him well enough to form my own opinion," Prowl smiled. "What role does cleaning and detailing play in Seeker society?"

Starscream field brightened and his wings lifted immediately. "That's how a new trine becomes acquainted if they don't know each other well," he said. "It's a good way to get comfortable with each other. Wing cleaning can be quite..." He nipped at Prowl's mouth. "Personal. Intimate. Not necessarily erotic, though. Was it the same way with Praxians?"

"Yes, though my experience with it indicates it led to interfacing far more often than not," Prowl reached up to pull Starscream's helm down for a longer, more involved kiss. "As much as I enjoyed the random contact as a racer, as a Praxian it was not nearly as appealing. Though I did not have a lover or close friend to trust with it very often. Perhaps on our next break we could indulge in a bit of detailing and wing cleaning?"

There was a flicker of hesitation in Starscream's field, and as soon as he felt Prowl's pull away with muted, uncertain hurt he pressed back into the kiss. "No--sorry, it isn't you," he said quickly, pulling away to look into Prowl's optics. "I mean, it is you, but not anything you can help. Your frame, it's ... unappealing." He cringed apologetically. "Praxian."

"What about allowing me to polish yours?" Prowl relaxed at knowing the cause.

"Oh, _absolutely_ ," Starscream purred immediately. " _That_ you are more than welcome to do."

"And polishing the rest of you?" Prowl asked, his purr deepening as his traced a finger down Starscream's golden cockpit.

" _Also_ acceptable," Starscream said with a thrill through his field. "What about for the rest of Soundwave's recharge cycle?"

"Would you take me from behind?" Prowl claimed another deep kiss. "I very much enjoy your spike."

Starscream's engines pitched up immediately. "And you apparently love being on your hands and knees for me," he purred, moving to give Prowl space to turn over.

"It's too early to ask you to lay on your wings for me," Prowl pointed out as he shifted, his doorwings wiggling in excitement. "I don't mind it nearly as much as you do."

He moved into place with unmasked eagerness, and then when Starscream didn't move or answer, looked over his shoulder to see the Seeker regarding him, head cocked and optics bright and focused. "Starscream...?" 

"You ... understand that," Starscream said, as he finally moved, putting his hand at the base of Prowl's neck and stroking down, tracing the back strut. He sounded amazed.

"I had flight wings once," Prowl murmured as he arched into the touch with an eager thrill. "Even now I have appendages that leave me half blind on my back. I may not know all the social minutia for you, but I understand the vulnerability being on one's back creates for a flier. Starscream and vulnerable do not mix well."

"They do not," Starscream agreed with a sharp edge to his voice, before his hands found Prowl's hips and his mouth started to follow the same path his fingers had just taken.

Prowl moaned shamelessly, his field flared bright and electric at the touch and the promise of what was to come. "You are good at bringing me to overload as well. No need to push comfort zones yet."

Starscream hummed as he settled himself in behind Prowl, glad to avoid any pushing of comfort zones for the time being, and even more glad to fully enjoy what Prowl was currently offering up to him, and so eagerly. "If we can make this work, we'll have _ages_ for that kind of thing."

"Agreed," Prowl shivered and moaned as the spike he was coming to enjoy so much gradually spread him wide as it pressed in until the rim of his valve and Starscream's spike housing rubbed together.

"For now though," Starscream murmured, half bent over him, wings flared wide, as he slowly pulled out, "Plenty else to explore." He pushed in with a low moan.

"Yes!" Prowl rocked back into the pleasure, eager, willing and very much enjoying himself and the short amount of time they had. 

* * *

Another orn, another recharge spent with Starscream. Sometimes interfacing, sometimes playing or talking, often simply laying close and enjoying the silence. The pattern was relentless, and yet it was by far the most time he'd ever spent with a lover in a single working decaorn in his existence. It was to the point where he felt a flare of excitement whenever Soundwave called a break.

"That for me?" Jazz's voice behind him nearly caused Prowl to jump as he whirled around to face the other.

"Is what for you?" Prowl demanded, genuinely confused.

"The perfectly made up berth," Jazz said with a laugh in his voice. He leaned in the doorway, helm tilted to the side. "Kinda been missin' you in mine, not gonna lie, mech."

"Is that the only way you've been missing me?" Prowl purred. It was mean, but he needed to know if Jazz had a clue what 'mate' actually meant.

Jazz lifted an optic ridge, stood up straight, and sauntered in. "Nah," he said, shrugging, and lifting his knuckles up to run down Prowl's jaw and felt a slight tingle of the reaction. "The snugglin' after was nice, too."

"As amazing as it was, it's not what will keep me," Prowl murmured. "Your reputation for a processor-blowing interface is very well deserved."

Jazz stilled, and sighed. "'S more than a good 'face," he said, with a rueful smile. "That was a slaggin' top notch frag."

"Yes. A great deal more," Prowl said evenly. "You just don't compare."

Jazz shook his head, looking to the side. "I can still try," he finally said. "You can let me _try_. I don't trust Screamer."

"No one trusts Starscream," Prowl actually chuckled. "Even his trine knows to take his word with some care." He turned serious. "I know his spark Jazz. He's as trustworthy as I am once you understand the rules he functions under."

Jazz was just staring at him. "You _spark merged_ with him?" he finally managed.

"More than once since we came here," Prowl confirmed, and also gave Jazz a timeline for it.

"But, he's--"

" _Right here,_ " Starscream announced, strolling in and coming around to Prowl, wrapping an arm around the Praxian's waist and preened when Prowl visibly relaxed into the embrace. "I believe he turned you down."

Jazz glared at the Seeker. "Just what is it you want from Prowl?"

Starscream shrugged. "What _don't_ I want from Prowl," he said with a grin, one that just got wider and nastier at Jazz's open confusion. "I'm not making demands he be something other than himself."

Jazz's optics narrowed behind his visor and shifted to focus on Prowl. "Just what does _that_ mean?"

"It means that to keep myself functioning and in energon, I've created a reality for myself that I do not want to exist in," Prowl told him. "If you really find this so important to discus, we can do so _after_ the treaty and government is sorted out."

Jazz glared, and then it smoothed out into a casual shrug. "Can't say ya didn't give me a chance," he said as he turned. "Your loss," he added cheerfully with a wave before the door shut after him. 

"Not a loss at all," Prowl pressed into his lover's embrace once the door closed. "He has no concept what a lover is, much less a mate."

"I hear he actually has a _very_ decent understanding of the concept of being a lover," Starscream said, mouth going to Prowl's neck. "And the practical application skills besides." 

"A lover is what _you_ are," Prowl moaned as he tilted his helm to give Starscream better access. "Jazz only understands what to do in a berth and how to get a mech there."

"Useful skills," Starscream said, and then bit down harder, enough to leave a mark that would last into the next orn. "I hope not ones he will use on you again."

Prowl's engine growled at the pain and he reached back to tweak a wingtip hard in retaliation, matching pain for pain at an exacting level and got a similar growl in reply. "He will not," he said firmly. "It was good for both of us, however. Jazz can no longer insinuate that it was merely the lack of a willing berthmate that got you in my berth, and I am now certain, without doubt, of that same fact."

"All right, then," Starscream said, and turned Prowl around, pushing him towards the berth. "Down, lover." 

A low, deep rumble of willing desire flared up in Prowl and lapped at Starscream's field as the mech complied smoothly. With a last minute twist Prowl laid on his doorwings, giving them a wiggle to point out that he was on his back in a display of willing submission.

" _Much_ better," Starscream purred as he swooped in over, claiming first a kiss, and then so much more. 


	8. He's What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of graphic violence and death in this ch.

Starscream waited in the control room of the Nemesis, controlling the twitching in his wings as much as possible, settling into his role as Order. He'd recalled the rest of the Seekers to him and they'd arrived shortly before Prowl and Soundwave finished their negotiations. Their presence was cause for curiosity, and some animosity, among the Decepticons, and Starscream knew he was reaching the end of his ability to keep Megatron's deactivation a secret. Prowl and Soundwave's announcement that they were finished with their work couldn't have come soon enough. 

His trinemates appeared in the room next to him. "Ready?" Thundercracker asked.

Starscream gave his display one more critical look, then flicked a wing in affirmative and turned around. "Send them in."

Thundercracker nodded once, looked at Skywarp, who teleported over to the door to unlock it before jumping back to stand in place as Action. Thundercracker stood as the Vision, and Starscream as the Order. 

The Decepticons who'd been summoned filtered in. Scattered among those who would be surprised were the Coneheads, Rainmakers and Soundwave, there to ensure that any fight was an uneven one in favor of Starscream. He had little concern about Onslaught, Scrapper or Refractor. Razorclaw and Sixshot were firmly in the category of those he was sure he could convince given a bit of time. They were both smart mecha, even if they didn't have much use for Starscream as a leader. Of the mecha he did not expect to go along, Motormaster and his gestalt were the most concerning of those on Earth.

He watched them coming in, and could just feel the confusion rising in the room. They had been summoned for an address by the commander of the Decepticon army, and this was not what they'd expected. 

Starscream waited, standing still with his trine, making optic contact with each Seeker in the room while everything settled around them. Once it was still, he stepped forward. 

"Fellow Decepticons, as the observant among you may have noticed, Megatron will not be addressing you today. In fact," Starscream turned towards the grand chair that he'd propped Megatron's gray frame in--chest still torn open, cracked spark chamber on blatant display--and pulled the cover off of it, revealing the former leader to the room. "He will never be addressing you again." He looked back. " _I_ am now the rightful leader of the Decepticon army."

Those that knew watched those that hadn't carefully, gauging reactions. It came as no surprise when Onslaught collected his thoughts first.

"What will be changing, other than who is Supreme Commander?" The large convoy class mech asked evenly.

This was going to be the most telling moment. Starscream drew the peace treaty that he had signed with the Autobots and held it up. "Effective immediately, Optimus Prime will be stepping down as commander of the Autobots. There is to be a cease fire, and this is a treaty of conditional peace. Conditional upon the Prime not being in command, and the Autobots joining with us against any threats. Those who break the cease fire will become the immediate enemy of both Autobots and Decepticons, no matter their original faction."

"What?" Motormaster roared, his processors locked on the concept of 'no more fighting' and twisting him into an emotional knot of rage even greater than his norm. "Peace is when they are _destroyed_!"

Soundwave and the Codehead trine shifted to have a better cross-fire setup on the outraged convoy class not even a half-vorn old. Everyone knew it was coming. It was part of the mech's core coding. Also true to form learned under Megatron, once any mecha was riled to the point of challenging, everyone else went still and silent.

Starscream faced him directly. " _I_ say when peace is. Peace is when we realize we have no more _home_ , that we skulk and hide on this planet, take the forms of primitive _organics'_ technology, all because the _mighty_ Megatron was obsessed with killing the Prime." His wings lifted up. " _I_ have removed Prime from his command, and I say there is peace."

"Not while Prime lives!" Motormaster snarled and lunged forward in a charge for the much lighter framed Seeker.

Starscream shot straight up into the air and aimed his null rays at Motormaster while Thundercracker and Skywarp rushed forward with their weapons lifted, and the rest of the Seekers closed in behind him. Motormaster snarled again and looked all around. "What the frag is this?" 

"If you're going to do it, do it like a _Decepticon,_ " Starscream hissed. 

Motormaster glared up at him with optics deep red with fury. " _I challenge you._ "

"For what prize?" Starscream asked coldly. 

"Leadership of the Decepticons," Motormaster said. "Name your arena." 

"Outside," Starscream said with a smirk. Motormaster's optics narrowed into enraged slits but he nodded his compliance. 

* * *

No one knew what to expect, or even hope for, that much was obvious as the Decepticons all gathered outside. Starscream had made sure to get outside first with Skywarp to choose the most beneficial location and now he was just waiting for Motormaster to get there. 

And when he did, with the gaze of the entire Decepticon army upon them, the battle for supremacy and the future of their species began. Hard, fast, and ruthless, Motormaster had been built for war and rage and pain and if he'd been equipped with wings, Starscream would never had stood a chance. 

Starscream hadn't been built for war. He'd been lucky enough to chance into an agile frame and processors that were fast enough to make him the best flier in the sky. The speed that had gained him his rank was going to have to save his life. Even with his wings damaged and cockpit crushed, open energon lines in his neck, damage covering his frame, he still had his speed. 

Until Motormaster crushed his thruster and he was confined to the ground, and then Starscream was fighting for his life. Grappling and spinning with the overlarge grounder, the only thing that kept him going was his agility. 

Finally, Starscream got Motormaster's arm back in a pin and he threw his entire mass backwards, firing his remaining thruster as hot as it could go, bringing the giant smashing to the ground. His null ray went to Motormaster's helm and he wrenched sideways, as the grounder's enraged roar shook his entire frame, and finished the pin. He leaned forward, and saw his own energon dripping onto Motormaster's frame. "Surrender or deactivate," he hissed.

The big mech, battered and beaten, knew what was coming if he surrendered. Megatron had forced it on him more than once. He couldn't. He just couldn't submit to a _jet_ who wanted _peace_. Peace did not exist and they all knew it.

With a roar he jerked his frame upwards, a surge meant to dislodge the new Supreme Commander of the Decepticons.

The null ray struck him point blank in the helm and his entire frame seized up. Another one followed, for good measure, and Starscream let him drop before shoving the helm forward and sinking his fingers into the exposed wiring at the base of his neck. He gripped, twisted his wrist, and _yanked_ , pulling out neural cables and energon lines. "Deactivation, then," he said, and shook Motormaster's energon off his hand before he stood over the giant, shooting him every time he twitched and severing line after line, letting him bleed out slowly. 

Before every Decepticon on Earth and broadcast to Cybertron, Starscream defeated his first challenger and left more than a few mecha in shock. Every Seeker not only knew Starscream was capable of this, but had witnessed it. The fight to the Air Commander's rank had been brutal. Grounders though, and some of the younger members, had never witnessed anything but Starscream taking a beating before and stood in numb awe of the violence the Seeker was capable of.

He lifted his head when the frame on the ground went gray and narrowed his optics at the rest of the Stunticons, who looked stunned, but were at least not deactivating. It indicated a weak gestalt bond, and he wasn't surprised. 

"Anyone else?" Starscream asked with a low growl, standing up straight.

The Predacons looked between each other, then apparently came to a decision and dropped to one knee as a unit.

"All hail Lord Starscream, Supreme Commander of the Decepticons!"

Starscream's mouth twitched up in a smirk and he strolled to the gathered army and made his way through it, intent on forcing every single one of them to meet his gaze, kneel, and repeat the mantra. 

The Seekers, grouped together, were the next to kneel, and Starscream rested his hand on Thundercracker's helm as he swore his allegiance before moving on to the Combaticons, then the Constructicons, the Insecticons, and then to the individuals, ending with Soundwave, who knelt gracefully.

"All hail Lord Starscream, Supreme Commander of the Decepticons," the host said in his deadpan voice. 

Starscream waited a beat, then nodded his satisfaction. "Were there any problems with your transmission?" he asked. 

"None, Lord Starscream," Soundwave said. 

Starscream flicked his wings in satisfaction, turned on heel and walked back to his trine to return to the Nemesis.

* * *

Prowl's return to the Ark was understated. He'd done much of his usual work when Soundwave was recharging, so the majority of Autobots hadn't even noticed his absence. It had been nice to return to his office, but now was the beginning of the announcements. Soundwave was going to broadcast what happened on the Nemesis live, and Ravage was being tactfully ignored while he recorded events on the Ark.

More than once before walking to the conference room where the command staff would watch the broadcast Prowl felt himself wishing he could stand at Starscream's side and protect him. Instead, he had to trust that Starscream's trine, and the rest of the recalled Seekers, would be enough. 

"What's this all about?" Ironhide asked curiously as he followed Jazz in. Ratchet and Prime were already inside and waiting, sitting near the screen that the transmission would stream through. 

"A matter that you will need to understand very soon," Prime said heavily. He looked at Prowl with some concern. "How are you?"

"Ready for the future," Prowl responded as his doorwings lifted slightly with an eager, if minute flutter. "This is as clean as any endgame I have developed."

"Endgame?" Ratchet said sharply, looking between him and Prime. "We have some kind of plan?" 

"We do," Prime said. "But not like you're thinking." The screen flickered to life as Perceptor joined them and sat next to Ratchet. 

"Starscream?" Ratchet said in confusion as the picture sharpened. 

"This is being broadcast from the Nemesis by Soundwave. Steeljaw is there to ensure what we are witnessing is correct," Prowl responded smoothly. "As you may have noticed, I have been absent from the Ark for the past decaorn and the Decepticons have been unusually quiet. What you are about to witness is the end result of that effort and much of what happened in the metacycle that preceded it."

"An entire metacycle?" Perceptor said, cocking his head. "I was unaware of anything of significance occurring..." He trailed off, and no one noticed, because they were all too shocked by what they were seeing on the screen. 

All except Prime, Prowl, and Jazz. 

"Primus below," Ratchet muttered to himself. "He finally did it." 

"Yes," Prowl inclined his helm, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention on the subordinate players. He knew who would cause trouble as well as Starscream did. "It happened before he approached me to suggest a peace treaty. It was decided to keep Megatron's deactivation a secret until that treaty was worked out and signed."

" _What?_ " three voices said in chorus. 

"We coulda taken advantage of that!" Ironhide said. "Torn 'em up! Now they've got even _more_ 'Cons!" 

"Megatron's deactivation could have left them chaotic if we'd moved fast enough," Ratchet said. 

"That is, perhaps, why we did not," Perceptor said dryly. And then, when Motormaster made a dive for the Seeker, "...Oh, Primus. Is this live?" 

"Yes," Prowl said, stiffening in a way that both Ratchet and Ironhide took careful note of.

"A formal challenge, 's a thing they do. Whoever wins will lead the Decepticons," Jazz spoke up. "Let's hope it's Screamer."

The room fell silent after that, leaving Prowl with nothing to distract himself from the vicious fight that followed. He watched Starscream's thruster crushed beneath the grounder's pede, heard the scream of rage and agony as his lover tried to free himself. For a moment, it looked like Starscream would be crushed, his wings in Motormaster's hands as the giant twisted them.

Prowl's doorwings quivered in sympathy and something akin to fear, and he realized too late just how much his frame language was telling the other officers. As soon as he realized it, he immediately crushed the worry as irrelevant. He was not going to hide his relationship, even if he did not intend to advertise it any more than he had his previous ones.

Jazz's look was hard, but at least the saboteur recognized the benefit of Starscream winning, just as much as he did. 

"Are you truly stepping down, Optimus?" Ratchet asked suddenly, bringing up the point that none of them had commented on so far out of propriety, but that he didn't seem able to keep quiet about any longer. 

"Yes," Optimus murmured, with a sympathy wince of his own as Starscream went for the truck-former's front grill.

"He will remain Prime," Prowl spoke to take his processors off the battle as much as possible. "It is the position of Prime that will change. It will no longer hold political or military authority, but remain exclusively a spiritual position at the helm of the priesthood."

"Gon' be plenty not happy with that," Ironhide muttered, not hiding that he was going to be one of them. "So who's gettin' the gig now?"

"I will be, until the peacetime government is finalized," Prowl answered with another doorwing flinch as Starscream's canopy was shattered and torn off.

"This seems all very ... well planned," Ratchet said slowly, watching Prowl's continual unhappy cringes. "Let's hope Starscream survives. And what's with you, then?" he asked.

"You are aware that I began a relationship with Mirage a metacycle and a quarter ago?" Prowl opened, to which more than just Ratchet nodded. "Starscream was in control of his frame the entire time. When Starscream asked to meet me after he regained his own frame he wished to continue what we began, only without the lies. As for well planned, I would hope so. I began drafting endgame plans well before I was an Autobot."

" _You_ got Starscream to turn turncoat?" Ratchet practically yelped. "Is Mirage all right? Is that--that's why he yelled at you in medbay!"

"He's coping," Jazz growled, frustration at the situation briefly bubbling up.

"Yes," Prowl canted his doorwings with a nod. "At the time I did not know that Mirage had not been in charge the entire time. That is also why there was such a scramble to implement officer defection protocols afterwards." He focused on the battle and the brutalized frame of his lover.

"That's why y' did that security upheaval," Ironhide grunted to Jazz, who nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the battle. 

"There--Starscream has him," Optimus said, straightening in his seat. 

"Prowl..." Ratchet said, and he sounded genuinely concerned. "Is this, you know ... I mean, are you sure he isn't just playing you?"

"Tried that," Jazz muttered.

"More sure than he is that I'm not playing him," Prowl said firmly. "There is always the possibility, however nothing I have done has not passed Prime's muster. If he turns on us, he is well aware of the price I will extract."

He didn't miss Jazz's glance, one that wasn't as sharp as those he'd been receiving for orns now, but his primary focus stayed on the screen and Motormaster's slow deactivation. 

"...That does it," Optimus said after the Decepticons had sworn their allegiance to Starscream, and suddenly everyone was looking at Prowl. "I hereby concede command of the Autobots."

Prowl inclined his helm and canted his doorwings respectfully. "Though your duty is no longer to the Autobots, I am requesting that you remain and continue to advise where appropriate. The peace is more likely to last if the army does not believe you have abandoned us due to the peace treaty."

"Agreed," Prime murmured. "I have spent my life devoted to the Autobots, that will not change now." 

The screen went black as the transmission cut, right before Prowl received an internal comm. 

::So, _tell_ me you were impressed,:: Starscream said.

::Very impressed, and stressed. When is Shockwave going to learn his fate?:: Prowl answered. "Thank you," he replied to Prime and handed out copies of the peace treaty and the proposed governmental form that would come of it. "Your feedback on what is planned will be welcomed."

Prime nodded as the others began to look over the documents. 

::Shockwave saw the same transmission as you did,:: Starscream answered. ::He has yet to swear allegiance, and Soundwave reports that contact with Cybertron has gone dead. Shockwave is a traditionalist. He will challenge me. I need to be in one piece before then.::

::Ratchet is a far better medic than Hook, and we are better supplied,:: Prowl offered uncertainly. ::Starscream, if he wins, does it have to be a Decepticon that challenges him for leadership?::

::If it comes to that, no, it doesn't have to be a Decepticon. But _make sure_ whoever challenges him uses the same wording as I did, or it won't mean anything.:: There was a pause. ::If Ratchet is willing to repair me, I need it.::

"Ratchet, you are needed in medbay to repair Starscream for his next challenge, against Shockwave. If Starscream fails, it will fall to me to defeat him. You will have time to review the files later," Prowl ordered smoothly. ::I understand. Have Skywarp bring you to the medbay. If you have any specialty components that are needed, bring them or send him back for them.::

"This is really happening," Ratchet said as he stood, looking dazed. "When do we tell the troops? I can't hide Starscream for long." 

"You can close medbay and send any non emergency repairs to my lab," Perceptor offered quietly, speaking for the first time since the transmission had started. "Wheeljack and I can manage anything that should arise." 

Ratchet nodded. "Coming with?" he asked Prowl. 

Prowl hesitated for just a nanoklik, then nodded as he remembered that these mecha needed time to process what he'd spent much of his existence developing in one form or another. "Comm me with questions. We will meet in the morning to discuss any ideas for the government and final alliance treaty," he added to the room in general before following Ratchet.

Starscream was already in medbay when they arrived, Thundercracker and Skywarp standing uneasily in front of him. Their wings were high and tense, protective, and they regarded the medic warily. 

"Well we won't get anywhere starting like that," Ratchet said sternly. "I can fix him, but you have to move." 

The Seekers didn't even twitch from their posts in front of their trinemate. 

"He won't hurt me," Starscream rasped. "He's our best option." 

"I don't _trust_ him," Thundercracker growled.

"I do," Prowl said firmly, locking optics with the trine's true Order. "If Starscream is to survive his next challenge, you must trust our judgment."

Thundercracker's engines pitched deeper and it took another tense, uneasy moment before he inclined his helm and stepped to the side. Skywarp followed. 

"Thank you," Ratchet said, stepping forward and starting to scan. "This is some kind of fool way to keep your rank," he muttered. 

"It's more effective than talking," Starscream grimaced.

"Even you know Motormaster would accept nothing less," Prowl reminded the medic as he hung back, near the trine. "Thundercracker, I would be there when Shockwave challenges Starscream," he spoke more quietly. "If it goes badly, I am the next to make the attempt to put him down."

"I _should_ be," Thundercracker spat, earning a narrow glare from Starscream and there was a sharp moment of tension between the Order and his Vision-Air Commander before he stood down and bowed his helm, canting his wings. "But I won't."

"Fragging right you won't," Starscream muttered, then hissed at the medic when he touched the shattered glass remains of his cockpit.

"Because you would be deactivated," Prowl said simply. "You are more valuable to the future by holding the Decepticons together. I have a better probability of victory in a challenge against Shockwave."

"Prowl, you're smart, but you're a _tactician_ , not a frontliner," Ratchet snapped without looking back as he got Starscream to lay down and went to work.

"Correct. I am also a master of Teris-Spi and Circuit-Su and a pre-master of Diffusion," Prowl informed him. "My value to the cause has been my processors. That does not lessen my combat skills."

"I've seen him hold his own against your terror twins, he stands a good chance against Shockwave," Starscream said, shooting a grin at his lover.

Ratchet huffed. "So it really was you who beat the bearings out of them?"

"Yes," Prowl canted his doorwings slightly. "They were gracious enough to indulge me in a bit of stress-relief sparing."

"It was rather spectacular," Starscream said, then lifted his head and looked at Ratchet. "I need my thruster." 

Ratchet glanced up at him. "Well I don't know if you'll get your thruster. It's mangled." 

"Can you use one of ours?" Skywarp spoke up. 

Ratchet lifted his head in thought. "You're all the same model?" 

"Same alt modes, to the screws," Thundercracker said. 

Starscream looked at Skywarp and nodded his permission. Satisfied, Ratchet set about his work, as fast as he could.

"Thundercracker, what are the exact rules of the challenge?" Prowl asked politely after Skywarp was set up at another table, his voice low so not to disturb Ratchet as he began removing the needed pieces. 

"Formal wording, first of all," Thundercracker said, his optics never moving away from Starscream. "You have to say 'I challenge you' and then the challenged mecha asks what the challenge is for. He isn't allowed to outright refuse. Anything can be challenged for. Once the prize is stated, the challenged gets to choose the location, and it must take place immediately. The idea is that anyone must be ready to prove they deserve their post at any time."

"What is not allowed by way of weapons, technology or assistance?" Prowl focused on the critical points and what he did not want to be caught surprised by.

"It's a come as you are kind of thing," Thundercracker said. "Which can really frag the challenged mech, which is why they get to choose the location. Something that works to their advantage. Though it's..." He cocked his head, considering for a moment. " _Frowned upon_ , to really arm up. Not really honorable, and you've got to consider that there will be an audience. No assistance. It goes until one surrenders or deactivates."

"I doubt my swords qualify as 'really arming up,'" Prowl relaxed as this fell solidly into his traditional understanding and belief of challenges. "It is required to honor a surrender, or may the victor still kill the looser?"

"If you give the choice, you _must_ honor the surrender," Thundercracker said firmly. "But you don't have to give the choice. I'm not sure why Starscream did, there's no way Motormaster was going to surrender."

"To prove I would accept those who realized their mistake in opposing me," Starscream spoke without moving. "I don't _need_ to kill everyone who disagrees with me, even after such a fight."

"Then Shockwave will not have the option," Prowl rumbled, a little too eager for that kill. "He is too great a threat alive."

"And you want his spark chamber," Starscream chuckled, only to get a whack on the helm by Ratchet's wrench. 

"Be still or I put you in stasis, like any _sane_ mech would want to be," the medic growled.

"Is there anything else I should know to make this play out to our advantage?" Prowl asked.

Thundercracker's wings lowered as he gazed at the tri-colored frame. "The challenged mecha can surrender at any time, and it must be honored. It is ... a terrible dishonor to do so, but you walk away functioning. The challenger cannot surrender unless given the choice. Starscream..." 

"No," Starscream snapped at him, straightening and blocking the wrench with his wrist. "If he deactivates me, he deactivates me. I'm not surrendering to that freak. Ow--hey!" he protested when Ratchet did get a solid strike in. 

"I'm telling you to stay still one more time or I'll get Prowl to put you in stasis himself," Ratchet said.

"He..."

"Yes I will," Prowl said firmly, the same tone he took with the twins when they became unruly. "Obey Ratchet or be in stasis." He turned his attention to Thundercracker. "How likely is Shockwave to surrender without being asked?"

"I just told you, he _can't_ surrender if he isn't given the choice," Thundercracker said, sparing a moment to give Prowl an odd glance. 

"He can if I've challenge him," Prowl said, his voice low. 

Red optics widened in realization. "You mean if Starscream loses," Thundercracker said, and that outcome had quite obviously not been welcomed into his processors as a potential reality. "I ... don't know," he admitted. "He's going to be more than a little upset because of Megatron."

"Then I will accept it if he does, and hope he does not," Prowl canted his doorwings in acceptance. "Would I be expected to allow him to be repaired before challenging him?"

"No," Starscream and Thundercracker said in unison, bringing a vicious smile to Prowl's lip plates.

"I'll bring you his chamber," Starscream said. "I'm not letting a one-opticked _grounder_ defeat me."

"I will hold you to that," Prowl gave a low trill of support-fond demand.

* * *

With the three Seekers tucked away in a locked down medbay, Shockwave likely on his way to Earth already, and the Autobots having noticed the strange behavior of their officers, it was time to let the rest of their troops in on the situation. 

Optimus Prime stood before the assembled Earth-bound Autobots and glanced towards the ceiling vent where he knew Ravage was lurking, then faced his troops. His former troops. Prowl stood at his right for now, and Jazz at his left, with Ironhide behind them. Just like most other major announcements with this crew.

"Autobots," he said. "There has been a significant development in our relations with the Decepticons. I ask that you stay quiet until everything has been said." He fixed a few of them with hard looks. " _All_ of you."

There was a general murmur of consent and understanding, those pinned by his gaze looking down or away. As almost always, when he demanded respect he received it, and he knew it was not only because he was the Prime. He had earned it as a leader, a mech, not on a title. Which was going to make this so much harder. 

He glanced at Jazz. ::Is Mirage here?:: 

::He's here,:: the SpecOps commander answered grimly.

Optimus nodded once, cycled his vents, and looked back out. "Megatron has been deactivated, and Starscream has taken his place as leader of the Decepticons. His first act has been to broker a cease-fire, and now a peace treaty. One of the conditions of that treaty is that I give up my military command. I will remain your Prime and your spiritual advisor, but I will no longer be one of your officers. My role has fallen to Prowl." He turned and inclined his helm in respect to the Praxian as he yielded the floor, stepping back. "Sir." 

It felt weird and he could teek that it was almost as strange to Prowl, though the Praxian was far more accustomed to taking command than Optimus was to relinquishing it.

Prowl faced the gathered mecha. "When the next duty roster is posted, you will notice that it will have shifted to the orn structure of Cybertron. We have greater concerns than appealing to the biological rhythm of this planet, and we will explain this to their ambassadors. They will simply have to content themselves with realizing that we live longer and slower than they do. 

"Also take note that the three, and soon to be more, joors per orn listed for civilian skill is not optional. It is there for each of you to find and advance the skills needed to exist in a non-wartime society. This transition will be faster than when we went to war, and there will be no tolerance for those who break the peace." Prowl's voice had the steel edge to it that warned that he was well prepared to do whatever he needed to. "Those who are frontliners, warriors at spark, and do not have or do not desire to have a civilian function will have a place in the defense force. Those in all factions who are unable to adapt to peace, even with accommodations for the military sparks, will be given the choice of imprisonment, reformatting, and deactivation. Those who _do_ break the peace will not be given a second chance, and will be executed. This applies to members of both former factions and will apply to the former Neutrals as well.

"The full text of the cease-fire and peace treaty, along with the current draft of the new government and constitution, will remain perpetually updated in Teletraan I. I recommend everyone read it. My office will remain where it was and will always be open to questions, concerns and ideas," Prowl continued. "Optimus Prime has also graciously agreed to field anything from those who would rather speak to him than me. Though understand that anything that pertains to the new government will reach me, with or without a designation attached."

Another murmur of understanding rippled through the room, Autobots looking a mix of distressed, uncertain, confused, hopeful, angry ... a simple scan revealed emotions running the full length of the spectrum. It wasn't unlike the reaction to Starscream, though far less volatile. Far more Autobots were in the hopeful range.

Prowl gave them a moment to process his statement and orders. "I believe the end of the war warrants a celebration. Something I will leave to Jazz to organize. The updated duty roster will be posted momentarily. However, everyone will have a minimum of one third of the planned celebration off duty. I will be in my office now, and will receive anyone who wishes to talk, though please do consult the duty roster first, as some of you will have altered schedules. Thank you for your time. Dismissed," Prowl said as he stepped away from the officer core and into the crowd on his way to the door.

* * *

It took Shockwave three days to reach Earth, and by then, news of the impending battle for leadership had spread among the Autobots, who were now in the waiting audience. As Prowl watched Shockwave's uneven, careening pace towards the planet's surface, he was glad he'd notified the country's airways to ground their planes in this region until further notice. He landed hard enough to shake the Earth and his rage-filled roar carried even further. 

" _STARSCREAM! I challenge you!_ " 

Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp teleported down from the cliff they'd been waiting on and stood in formation in front of the rage-crazed grounder. Starscream stepped forward from his trine, arms folded over his cockpit. "For what prize." 

"Leadership of the Decepticons," Shockwave said. "Where?"

"Right here," Starscream said, gesturing to the long coastline he'd selected, bordered by severe cliffs where the bulk of the two armies was waiting and watching. The beach was rocky and uneven, chosen to give the grounder every disadvantage he could. Even from here Prowl could see the shale shifting under Shockwave's weight.

Shockwave lifted his cannon arm and fired, barely giving the rest of the command trine time to clear away. They reappeared next to Prowl, who was watching with the other Autobot officers and Soundwave. Every mecha on the cliff had taken note of Prowl's twin swords and small arm shields, but very few understood what it meant. Of them, Onslaught was the most interested, but the shuttle-former remained silent.

Down on the beach, Starscream immediately fired back with his null rays, scoring a direct hit on Shockwave's armor. The purple giant didn't even flinch. 

"All that time and you think I didn't come up with a way to shield from _those?_ " Shockwave said, firing again. Starscream rocketed straight up, barely dodging the shot, and even from here Prowl could see the way his optics widened. "Megatron's filthy, _traitorous_ second in command, I always knew someday I would have to put you down!"

"Not if I put your insane, _sparkless_ self down first," Starscream shifted the frequency of his arm blasters to normal output and continued to fire. "You are _everything_ that was wrong with the Decepticons, _Senator!_ "

On the cliff face Prowl's doorwings flared in shock and he looked at Thundercracker.

"I heard rumors...." the blue Seeker murmured as he stroked the tops of Skywarp's wings in an attempt to soothe the Action. "I guess it's true."

Starscream transformed and flew straight up in the air, twisting and dodging the cannon fire as he did. His afterburners glowed hot before he dove, heading straight for Shockwave. A shot glanced off his nosecone, sending him hurtling through the air, but he had control back in nanokliks as he continued down, firing the entire time, forcing the grounder to step back, stumbling on the unsteady surface. He went down and Starscream slammed on top of him, transforming at the last instant and grabbing his neck with his gun to his helm. 

Shockwave hit the arm away right as it fired, leaving a smoking pit on the ground. He grabbed Starscream's cockpit, crunching through the fresh repairs, and flung him away, getting up onto his knees and firing immediately. He hit Starscream's wing, and Starscream struck his pede, leaving both of them that much more immobilized. 

"You always thought you were so superior," Shockwave rumbled as he struggled to get up. "You're nothing more than a coward with wings!"

"I _am_ superior," the Seeker hissed as he got back in the air, firing the entire time. He couldn't fly in alt mode, but he could still fly. He still had his infamous speed that had brought him so much rank.

He had a promise to keep to his mate. A courting gift to claim.

A heavy cannon blast to his good wing sent him spinning and left him fully wing-blind, restricted to what his optics could tell him.

"See how superior you are when you're grounded!" Shockwave shouted, and started running towards him, aiming for his thrusters. Starscream twisted and dodged and returned every shot as he got higher and higher, trying to find his opening. He'd never down Shockwave without being in close range and close range meant almost certain fatal damage.

He'd taken down Motormaster! There was no excuse for Shockwave to be so much more difficult. He trine was watching. His mate was watching. Both armies were watching.

He _had_ to finish this.

Up on the cliff, Thundercracker saw the moment his Air Commander made the final decision. "He's going for it," he said, right as Starscream made his dive, helm first, hands and arms stretched out to take the damage from the cannon. 

He got to Shockwave and slammed him back again, but the larger mech absorbed the impact better than expected and twisted, spinning Starscream and slamming him into the rocky surface. 

Prowl could hear Thundercracker muttering, see Skywarp shaking. 

"Surrender, Star, surrender just surrender it doesn't slagging _matter_ \--" 

Starscream got his guns under Shockwave's chin but the ground shifted beneath them and everything moved out of place, his shot glancing an energon line. Shockwave's canon came forward and Starscream's optics widened as he watched it powering up--

The scream from the cliff came at the same moment that _mass_ landed on top of him, pushing him into the rocks.

The mass seized from the cannon's impact and crumpled, wrecked and smoking, chest torn open. Starscream knew but couldn't afford to acknowledge what had just happened. He had only a handful of nanokliks to make his Action's sacrifice meaningful, and any loss of focus would be fatal. His chest was damaged from the last of the cannon's energy, his spark chamber exposed to the salty air, but if he could move fast enough....

Both guns went back up, the whine of the canon powering back up was shrill and rapid, but he wrapped his arms around Skywarp's frame and fired right beneath Shockwave's chin, up through the mech's processors. He jerked, the canon stopped, and he stumbled back. 

Starscream threw the graying frame off and lunged, slamming his fist into Shockwave's optic and then shooting right into it as he kicked his heel thruster on and slammed it to the mech's chest, holding on to keep from shooting away, melting right through the plating. 

He knew he'd hit the spark chamber when Shockwave screeched and seized up before going absolutely, completely still. 

Starscream let him drop and stumbled away, falling down onto his knees. Anyone could challenge him right now, and they'd probably win. He lifted ruby optics up to the cliff. 

Nothing moved. 

Satisfied, he rose unsteadily and made his way over to the frame, tore the chest open, and ripped the damaged, partially melted chamber out before heading for Skywarp and collapsing to his knees next to him, staring. 

He only had a moment of stillness to look at the frame before the roar of jet engines overtook him and something _slammed_ into him, sending him sprawling sideways into the ground, grinding his injured wings down into the sharp rocks. 

" _You stupid, slagging, IDIOT!_ " Thundercracker screamed at him, grabbing for the damage in his chest. For a moment, Starscream thought he was going to tear out his spark chamber, but Thundercracker just held him, digging into the injuries. "You could have just slagging _surrendered!_ "

"No grounder is going to defeat me," Starscream responded, giving words to the combat logic loop he'd been stuck in.

"You could have surrendered!" Thundercracker repeated, the volume lower but the anger undiminished. "And Warp--" His hand twisted painfully, _fury_ burned across his field, and Starscream knew the only thing keeping him alive right now was his status as trinemate. " _Warp_ \--"

Skywarp was gone. Thundercracker's mate was gone, because of Starscream's pride. Starscream's Action, gone, because of Starscream's pride. It wasn't as if Shockwave would have lasted long against Prowl, or even Thundercracker. No, it was Starscream's pride that had brought his Action's demise and nothing else. There was nothing to say. He would grieve the loss of his trinemate, but he wasn't _sorry_ and Thundercracker knew it.

Skywarp shouldn't have teleported in. He should have let Starscream die. Thundercracker seemed to be waiting for him to say something but there was nothing he _could_ say and after another moment, the blue Seeker shoved him down and went to Skywarp's frame and curled over it, shaking and keening. 

Mated since before the war. Gone because of his pride. 

Would Thundercracker abandon him for this? It was reason enough to break a trine in peacetime, though it rarely happened.

"Fool," Prowl's voice was a low near-monotone that managed to contain nearly as much anger and disgust as Thundercracker's had pain and rage.

"You'd Pit well better treat Prowl with more respect," Ratchet's growl was deadly as he began field triage. "I thought I had fools. Prime has nothing on you."

"I didn't _ask_ him to do it," Starscream hissed. "You _knew_ I would never surrender to him. All of you knew."

"He did his _function_ ," Ratchet refrained from hitting Starscream, though he didn't want to and it showed. "Knowing your intent doesn't make it any less foolish or idiotic to let him kill himself for _nothing_."

"I didn't--" Starscream started, then checked himself, falling into a seething, bitter silence. "I never thought he would do something like that," he muttered after a while. 

Ratchet grunted, but his field spoke for him and it was full of pity.

Starscream sat still through the repairs--he needed them, badly, and there was a very real concern of Thundercracker challenging him in his anger... 

His gaze drifted over, and he realized that wasn't going to happen. Everything about Thundercracker's frame said _defeat_ as he sobbed in an embarrassing public display. Prowl had gone to him and knelt next to him, close enough to touch but not yet doing so. He was talking, but Starscream couldn't make out what. 

He looked down at his hand, which was still clutching the spark chamber, and for a moment he considered throwing it at Prowl, before simply letting it drop into the sand. 

He hadn't earned it. 

Not really.


	9. Making Peace, and Not

Prowl retreated to his office, as promised, as soon as he left the Seekers on the beach, and sat in there with the door open trying to work. 

The first voice he heard was not one he'd been expecting. 

"Prowl. Sir." Mirage came into visibility in the doorway. "I trust you are still available to talk?"

"Of course, Mirage," Prowl put his work down to devote his full attention to the mech he never expected to be willing to speak to him again. Not that he really had before. He motioned Mirage towards a chair and pinged the door to close once the mech was inside. "What can I explain?"

"It seems to me," Mirage said slowly as he settled down in the chair, and the way he crossed his legs and held his hand up in the air could have been a picture of the way Starscream had held this frame, "That after finding out where I had been, who had been here, _what_ those involved had done, you remained in contact with Starscream."

"That is not entirely correct," Prowl kept his voice and frame language tightly neutral. "Starscream has kept in contact with me. He contacted me and requested to meet, after you rejected me for all the reasons I knew you would. At that time I knew via Jazz that Megatron had continued the abuse you suffered after Starscream was returned to his frame. He then proposed a path to peace and after some negotiations the plan and agreements were signed by Prime."

Mirage tilted his head forward and was silent for a long time. "I have spent a great deal more time meditating since I returned, in hopes of..." He cocked his head in thought. "...Understanding what happened. I am finding that understanding what has come about because of it is even harder. You are content to ally yourself with them, knowing what they consider appropriate?"

"To end the war that has ravaged Cybertron, decimated our race, would end us as a viable species within two centuries at the current rate of deactivation, destroyed countless worlds and races, destroyed the galactic economy everywhere we've gone, made Cybertronians a hunted race and produced _nothing_ of value in return? When the expected results are a rebuilt Cybertron, a government that will prevent what enabled the war to begin and the future of our race, yes, I would ally with far worse than the Decepticons and Starscream."

Mirage nodded again. "I realize that my experience is rather unique, but time has given me some perspective, and I do admit that the treaty is well designed. I'm sure it was your documents that inspired the idea in Starscream." He regarded Prowl. "I was there, at the beach. I saw what happened. Will that affect matters?"

"Not in any way that matters," Prowl said firmly. "The treaty stands. Starscream is Lord of the Decepticons until the faction is disbanded. Shockwave was his last serious challenger. He never intended to remain a political mech for long, so the loss of a trinemate, or more likely both trinemates, is unlikely to affect the future."

Mirage hummed. "I expected so, but it's a relief to hear. You know, I ... I must admit that I found myself insulted to learn that your affections followed after Starscream, instead of myself. After all, who could ever desire again after having known perfection?" He gave a small, sardonic smile. "But now that, too, is something of a relief. What happened was more than just attraction to my frame and heritage."

"What something personal begins with is rarely where it remains," Prowl shrugged his doorwings slightly, but Mirage had studied Prowl well enough to recognize that there was still pain and anger there, and some of it was definitely directed at him. "I was given a choice between a frame whose owner rejected me, the spark I had grown fond of wanting me, or being alone again. You made the first choice for me, and politics made the second. It is no longer relevant, is it?"

"It is not," Mirage agreed. "Though now that I have had time to reflect and calm, I find myself with some lingering sensations of affection towards you." He hurried on at the minute quiver of disgust in Prowl's doorwings. "Nothing, of course, to indicate the possibility of further intimacy--not that I would expect you to desire such a thing, and I most certainly do not--but rather, a strong desire to let you know that I am here, as something similar to a confidant, if you need one."

Prowl's doorwings twitched again, a move of both surprise and distrust before he stilled them. "Thank you. I will remember that."

"And," Mirage said with a bit of a smile as he stood, "I daresay I know Starscream better than almost anyone, so if you have any questions about him, I'm happy to answer."

Prowl inclined his helm in acceptance and pinged the door to open. Mirage waited another beat, then murmured his gratitude for Prowl's time, and left with a new understanding of just how much damage had been done and that his attempt to make peace with Prowl had backfired badly. Perhaps in another century Prowl would be ready to hear the offer for what it was. Peace between them would not be an easy thing, and Mirage had to wonder if it would be worth it.

* * *

Thundercracker took the lift up to the observation tower and stepped out into open air. He'd cleaned the trine's quarters of everything that belonged to himself or Skywarp, put as much of the rest to rights as he could, and quietly moved into an unused room nearby. His first sensor sweep resulted in the unpleasant surprise of finding Starscream only a few lengths above him. He glanced up before lifting off to come even with the tri-colored Seeker that was still, technically, his leader.

Starscream looked at him but didn't otherwise move from where he was sitting on top of the tower, knees pulled up to his cockpit, chin resting on his folded arms. 

The fresh welding repairs were still visible all across his frame, the glass of his cockpit was surrounded with a hard resin to protect it while it grew and set properly, he hadn't touched up any of his paint. It didn't look as though he'd done anything at all after Ratchet had finished with him. 

They looked at each other in silence before Starscream turned his head to stare back out over the ocean.

"I will continue to publicly support you until the first vote for a Lord High Protector," Thundercracker said quietly. "In private, we are no longer trine. I will make it public once the transition has been made, so long as you do not try for the post."

Starscream's wings flinched but he nodded. "Out of curiosity, what would you do if I did try for the post?"

"Denounce you then and there," Thundercracker's tone was hard. "Skywarp is _gone_ because of your pride. I can't take it anymore. There isn't even enough for a proper funeral," he hissed, the pain of that flaring and quivering his wings.

Starscream's optics dimmed for a moment before returning to full brightness. "No," he murmured. "There wouldn't be." He looked up, faced his former Order. "But there was something?"

"A few shards," Thundercracker nodded. "Will you be there for the funeral?"

It was an insult, to even ask, and Starscream heard it but didn't react. "If you have no objection to my presence," he said dully and looked away again.

"He _died_ for you. My feelings aren't as important as not wanting to disgrace his memory by not having his commander and Vision there," Thundercracker shook with pain and anger. "I _want_ to tear you apart. For the sake of our race I'm not even going to denounce you for twenty-four vorns. You'd better play your part for that. For _him_. He cared about you more than me in the end and we both know it."

"He was a devoted Action," Starscream said. "I don't think it's possible for him to have cared about anyone more than you, though. At least we can agree on one thing." His wings flicked. "He should have stayed on that cliff."

"Should have, didn't, couldn't, and we didn't see that," Thundercracker muttered darkly.

Starscream just nodded. "I will arrange the details for the ceremony," he said, and stood, facing Thundercracker directly. "I'm sorry it ended like this."

"So am I. Comm me when it's time," the blue Seeker sighed and turned, transformed and blasted away.

Starscream watched him until he disappeared, then returned to the Nemesis to begin the work.

* * *

Cybertron.

Starscream still thought it beautiful, even unlit. Thundercracker was in the lead, Starscream in his place behind the blue Seeker's right wing and they both felt the heavy emptiness on their left. After Skywarp's very public sacrifice, it hadn't been hard for the remaining Seekers to figure out who was Order and who was Vision. Flying in proper formation for the first time should have been a celebrated relief. Instead, missing their Action, it was one more agony.

The crystal sphere that held what remained of Skywarp's chamber was tucked carefully in Thundercracker's cockpit as the Seekers, Decepticon and Autobot, were cautiously joined by a scant handful of Neutrals on the long, winding spiral into the very edge of Cybertron's atmosphere. Here they could all feel the powdery grains of the spark chambers of every Seeker to extinguish near their homeworld since the first Seeker extinguished deep in pre-reliable history. 

The origins of this ceremony were hazy and uncertain, but what evidence they did have pointed to it being older than any recorded history. Countless generations had been released up here, and the crystal was heavy in the air. It sanded away at their finishes.

Thundercracker slowed and came to a stop, Starscream following his pace before they both transformed and the rest of the Seekers came to hover around them. The winds lashed up here, the sky above them was deep with the emptiness of space. 

Some of these Seekers had never even met Skywarp, many were too young to have ever known anything but war, but there were so few of their kind left that every loss was to be mourned by all of them.

"Skywarp deactivated as an Action should, protecting his Vision from attack," Thundercracker's deep voice rolled through the gathering despite the thinness of the atmosphere and gave no hint of the real emotions surrounding the event. "He gave his spark so the war would end for us all and so our creations could know skies free of blaster fire and persecution. He was a fine Action, a fine Seeker. He was my mate, my trinemate, my Action. Remember his designation for the truth he gave to his function. He was what we should all strive to be; willingly embracing what we are coded for. Let his sacrifice be the last for a long time."

"Skywarp, may your spark be at peace here with our brethren," Starscream said, and touched his hand over his own spark and bowed his head. "My Action, my trinemate, you deserve to fly these skies forever." 

Thundercracker took the crystal sphere from his cockpit and held it out for Starscream to place his hand against. Their optics met, they nodded in unison, and then flew away from each other, pulling the crystal apart. 

The scant amount of light blue dust shimmered and was whipped up and away by the wind, disappearing within nanokliks. 

"Be at peace," Thundercracker whispered, staring into the emptiness. Thrust came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his chest, holding the other Order tightly in a rare moment of solidarity between the two. 

Starscream waited, and watched, and as soon as it was appropriate, when he couldn't stand watching Thundercracker shaking anymore, transformed and rocketed away. He wouldn't take the mourning flight, not with Thundercracker. He didn't deserve that, and Thundercracker wouldn't want it. 

Time found him back in Earth's skies, something he couldn't recall why he'd do or how long it had taken. He felt various pings ID him, mostly human, occasionally Autobot or Decepticon. It didn't matter. None were weapons locks, not that part of him wouldn't welcome destruction right now. Land and water passed below him, covered by clouds or not, until he saw a familiar splash of black and white against the brown ground near a line of reflective water.

He hadn't even felt an ID ping from Prowl, and part of him considered a sharp bank in the opposite direction before he was noticed, until he looked closer and saw the Praxian form curled in on itself, doorwings shaking harder than Starscream had ever seen before. 

And without even having to think about it, his landing course was plotted and executed, bringing him down just an armspan away from Prowl. It showed just how out of it Prowl was that there was no reaction. Every sense Prowl had _must_ have told him a jet had landed in root mode next to him, and yet he didn't respond. Couldn't respond. So many mecha would have taken this opening to shoot Prowl dead, likely several of them Autobots, and Prowl didn't seem to care.

What truly hit Starscream was Prowl's field. Unguarded, it flared and fluctuated wildly, at the core of it the same kind of pain Starscream felt. Betrayed, lost, rejected, self-loathing.

"Prowl," he said, quietly, and dropped to his knees to pull the Praxian into his arms, unable to even think about doing anything else. The Praxian sank into the embrace, then turned to press his face against Starscream's shoulder.

"Back so soon?" Prowl managed, his voice unsteady and full of static.

"Couldn't stay," Starscream said, hand on Prowl's helm, stroking. "Didn't want to ruin the entire thing for Thundercracker by being there. Left once we released him."

Prowl nodded and began to relax, his field smoothing out, though it was still too jagged to be safe. How had the Autobots allowed him to get this far from base alone? 

"It went well?" Prowl murmured.

"As well as possible for what we have," Starscream said, and started running his hands over Prowl's frame. He couldn't teek any pain, but that didn't mean there wasn't damage somewhere. 

He hadn't expected Prowl to want to look at him, much less relax against him like this. 

What the Pit was going on with him?

"...What happened?"

A dark laugh escaped Prowl's vocalizer. "Mirage, what else? The first to talk to me and he just rubbed it in how insulted he'd been that I preferred a mech who at least had _some_ use for me over his perfection, but now he's grateful I didn't fixate on him, then said he wanted to be _friends_ ," he spat, anger rising from the pain, but only briefly. "That he wanted to be a _confidant_ , like I've ever trusted him outside of his duties."

Starscream snarled. "Self-absorbed slag sucking grounder," he spat. "I can tell you first hand that he thinks he's the best thing to grace this universe since matter." 

"He's a noble. They're all like that unless it's been beaten out of them," Prowl said with the conviction of a lifetime. "How much damage has Skywarp's deactivation done?"

Starscream sobered. "Nothing practical," he said, and his wings flinched from saying it, but it was true. Skywarp had never been of great strategic importance when it came to finding peace. "I remain Air Commander and Lord of the Decepticons, there is no internal rebellion. I'm ... untrined," he admitted, and the great shame of it, of being rejected, came through in his voice.

"I'm not surprised, after the beach," Prowl sighed, his field smoothing out more, but in the way of going numb rather than acceptance. "I know I don't understand the full implications, but so long as you can hold the political side of things together, it's all that really matters in the end."

"I can," Starscream said. "But from the outside, we will still appear as trinemates, or I risk losing the Seekers. They're willing to accept that I am a Vision, but if they learned I was a rejected Vision, there would be no keeping them. Thundercracker will wait until the elections begin and my public reputation is no longer important." 

"We owe him then," Prowl let out a soft sigh from his vents and reluctantly pulled away. "I should return before Jazz decides I've deserted what sense he believes I have left."

Starscream's fingers clutched tighter before he forced them to let go. He didn't want to be alone, but he knew a graceful out when he heard one, and he wouldn't physically force Prowl to stay with him. 

"Do you have to..." he said, and hated how hopeful he knew he sounded. 

Prowl stilled on his pedes and glanced towards the ribbon of river far below. "Before I prove him right...." He offlined his optics and forced himself to be calm. "No. I don't have to. I should. My rank is not nearly as secure as yours right now. I've been gone too long already."

Starscream nodded. "I'll stay overhead," he said, because he'd seen that odd glance to the bottom of the canyon and he didn't like it. 

"You know you can come in...." Prowl said before taking a half step back, towards the edge, then settled on his tires and drove away.

It left Starscream with no doubt at all that more than just Mirage rubbing it in had happened, and he had no doubt he was partially at fault. If that hatred Prowl had displayed at the beach had turned inward ... his wings shivered as he took to the sky at the implication of how unstable his lover was.

He followed Prowl to the Ark and circled around once overhead before landing right in front of their main doors, watching Prowl disappear inside without so much as a glance. A camera was pointed straight at him and he was pretty sure the hologram Autobot was somewhere in the vicinity, just from what he could remember of their guard rotations. 

But when he stepped forward, nothing happened, and with nothing better to do, he followed Prowl towards his office. He got looks, some of them promised pain and death if they'd come from a Decepticon, or on the battlefield, but still nothing happened. It was strange, knowing these mecha, these _Autobots_ saw him for exactly who he was and did no more than glare and mutter.

A ping came and Starscream's wings twitched in surprise at the designation attached.

::What, _precisely_ , do you want,:: he said as icily as he could manage. 

::I hoped to discuss the future with you. If this is a bad time it can be later,:: Optimus replied smoothly.

::I wasn't aware you had any say in the future, and I'm not interested in speaking with the inane and powerless,:: Starscream said.

::As you wish, Lord Starscream. I wish you happiness with Prowl,:: Optimus responded easily before closing the comm line.

Starscream scowled internally at the comm line before focusing back outward to watch the faces he knew very well from his time here, monitoring carefully until he was inside Prowl's office. 

"Your _Prime_ commed," he complained. "My processors feel violated." 

"He's not _my_ Prime," Prowl corrected him sharply. "He's _the_ Prime. He's your Prime as much as mine." He settled his doorwings by force and regarded the Seeker in his office, his safe place that had not been safe since he took command. "Did you wish to talk, plan or simply avoid Decepticon company?"

"I do not recall electing him," Starscream said mildly. "Which I suppose does make him _the_ Prime but certainly not mine _or_ yours unless you want him to be. And the latter," he added, glaring darkly at nothing in particular. "But we might as well put the time to good use." 

"That was my point," Prowl pointed out. "Don't say he's my Prime unless he is. What do you wish to talk about?"

"There are some small moons near Cybertron," Starscream said after a half klik of casting about for _anything_ to talk about. "I was thinking they would work as a base of operations while we are rehabilitating the planet."

"True," Prowl canted his doorwing in agreement. He paused and glanced at the still-open door and closed it with a small sigh. "What about us?"

"Mm, well, I tried to get you a courting gift and it all went horribly awry," Starscream said bitterly. He regarded Prowl carefully. "Do you have any desire for me to act in any capacity other than Lord of the Decepticons?"

Prowl was still for a long time, first looking at Starscream, then down at his desk between his hands. "For the immediate future, until replacements are voted in for both of us, it would be best if we remained ... more." He said with some difficulty. "You are not particularly stable yourself, however you are the best stabilizing influence I have access to in the foreseeable future. As you saw, I am not managing my emotional state very well."

"No, you're not," Starscream agreed. He looked at his fingers in his lap, turning his palms up. "And once the elections have taken place ... reevaluate?"

"Yes," Prowl inclined his helm. "A great deal will change in the next twenty-four vorns, personally and professionally."

Starscream slowly curled his fingers up into loose fists. "It was supposed to feel better than this," he murmured.

Ice blue optics regarded him evenly for a long moment. "Yes, I suppose it was. You genuinely still hoped for yourself?" Prowl asked as he tried to wrap his processors around the concept that anyone who survived was going to be happy in any sense of the term. Grateful to live, yes. But happy? Perhaps the youngest, the Aerialbots and Protectobots, but not old mecha like Starscream and himself.

"Until about a metacycle ago, no," Starscream said flatly, giving Prowl a level look. It was met with an almost demure look down.

"There is time. I know pain passes, eventually. I ... I can't say I've had any hope for myself since Crucible came online. The tac-net does not handle such concepts in a format that matters," Prowl said softly. "Have you lost anyone close to you before this?"

"Who hasn't," Starscream said with a careless shrug. "But not like _this_." The look at Prowl stayed even, emotionless. "Not like him."

"Will you ever have a trine again?" Prowl met his gaze, but there was no fire there, no resistance or condemnation.

Starscream cocked his head. "What happened to you?" he asked, instead of answering _that_ question. "Where did all that anger go?"

"Burned out, turned inward and fed into the tac-net," Prowl shrugged his doorwings. "It is highly unnatural for me to sustain any emotion for long. The stronger the emotion the shorter it lasts. The tac-net doesn't like the chaos."

"Good to know," Starscream said with a bit of a smirk. "Though somehow I still suspect you're no easier to deal with whether you're feeling the anger or not."

Prowl stared at the desk between his hands and the datapad he hadn't actually looked at yet. "I was angry because I felt betrayed by what you did. I knew if you'd risk him like that, turning on me would be nothing. It hurt. Then Mirage ... said what he said." Doorwings flicked in dismissal. "If my last emotional crisis was any indication, then no, I am no easier to deal with, unless you are my CO." He looked up and met Starscream's optics with a steady gaze. "I am _trying_ this time, trying not to walk away and take the easy road."

Starscream's field shifted through pain, anger, surprise, and his wings mirrored it. He turned his head, looking determinedly at the wall. "I didn't mean to risk him. I know I should have realized--but I didn't. I never thought he'd do something so _stupid_ like that, he was _so_ \--" He broke off, visibly stopping himself from continuing down that path. "It was the wrong choice. We both made the wrong choice. If we had to do it again we'd make the same ones."

Prowl listened and tried to understand, eventually pushing it to a background thread. "He did what he was supposed to do, as an Action," he eventually said. "He gave his life for you, to protect his trine's carrier. It seems that it was a very honorable thing to do, no matter how much pain it caused."

"You can say it, it was a stupid thing to do and he was a moron to do it," Starscream said dryly, before everything about him seemed to shatter from the inside out. "But you're right. It was honorable. He was a stupid, honorable moron." 

"He was _your_ stupid, honorable moron," Prowl said gently. "He loved you, even if he probably didn't like you as often as not."

Starscream barked out a laugh. "You have no idea how true that is. Stupid fragger should have just teleported next to Shockwave and pushed the gun out of the way. But no, he had to go the dramatic route that ended up fragging me in the end. Bet he'd find it all hilariously appropriate."

"He really was like that?" Prowl asked, willing to let Starscream vent around him in whatever manner the Seeker needed.

"Yeah," Starscream said, with a bitter smile. "He could be sweet, sure, but he wasn't afraid to tell me when I was being a high maintenance aft. Or rub it in when I brought something on myself, or failed spectacularly." He was quiet for a moment. "He was kind of an aft sometimes. ...Pit. He really is gone."

"Yes," Prowl said, watching Starscream try to absorb that truth. "He will be remembered, good, bad and crazy."

Starscream nodded slowly. "I ... should be with Thundercracker for this. To lose a trinemate, it's ... we should be together. If it had been any other way we'd be together. But my Action is dead and my Order rejected me, and..." Starscream looked at Prowl. "And it's my fault."

"So now you have to make due with a degenerate half-kin that used to have wings," Prowl said what was there but even Starscream couldn't bring himself to actually say to Prowl's face. "Do you have a place to recharge away from Thundercracker?"

Starscream waved a hand. "Here and there. The trine's old quarters are empty now."

Prowl opened his mouth to speak, only to have a ping at the door shut it. "Just a moment," he told Starscream instead, then pinged the door open. "How can I help you, Smokescreen?"

"I...." he made a rather undignified half-squeak, half-snarl and leapt back, his shoulder launchers activating before he corrected himself after finding himself face to face with Prowl and a deep, warning growl of the Autobot commander's engine. "Sorry," Smokescreen muttered as he stood down. "Reflex."

Starscream just looked at him, everything about his frame language cold, but relaxed as he gestured to the next chair. "Please do join us," he said.

"I'm not interrupting?" Smokescreen looked at Prowl, who flicked his doorwings in denial as he stepped back to his desk.

"How can I help you?" Prowl asked again.

Smokescreen gave another uncertain look at the Seeker before focusing on Prowl with his doorwings angled to track Starscream. "Are you serious about legalizing gambling?"

"Of course," Prowl looked genuinely surprised. "Surely my lack of enforcement on the subject, and the regularly removed regulations on it says enough about my belief that it cannot be legislated away."

"Indeed, what good is telling mecha they can't squander away everything they own?" Starscream said, watching the Praxian with just as much dislike and caution that Smokescreen was showing towards him. "Someone might as well make a profit off of stupidity."

"Gambling more than one's disposable income is actually illegal," Prowl corrected Starscream. "Since the state supports those who do not have enough, we do have a valid interest in ensuring those with an income spend it on their own basics first." He shifted back to Smokescreen. "As for what actually brought you in, yes, the recommendation that you be put in charge of developing the system, laws and initial governing of it is also a serious one. It is your specialty, and even the Decepticons know you for it. You have successfully managed the gambling scene in every unit you have been in with remarkably little conflict and unusual honesty. Your own gambling issues are known and the oversight is sufficient to keep them in check in my estimation."

Smokescreen's doorwings trembled slightly in a mixture of stunned gratitude and awe with just a hint of increased respect. "Thank you. I'll do my best."

"I know," Prowl gave him a faint smile and dismissal via doorwings before the younger mech was out of the room and the door closed once more. "Who handled it on the Nemesis?"

Starscream turned back from where he'd been glaring at the door, and gave Prowl a bemused look. "You seem to have overestimated Decepticon organizational skills," he said. "No one much handles anything, there are only key players."

Prowl rolled his optics. "Same difference in this discussion. Who are the key players in gambling on the Nemesis?"

"Swindle's at the heart of everything," Starscream said. "His gestalt tends to get dragged in because of it. Rumble and Frenzy, Sky--" He broke off and took a moment to settle. "Skywarp." He stood abruptly. "I need to go."

"You are welcome when you are ready to return," Prowl dipped his doorwings in open invitation and concern. "I will be here, most likely."

Starscream canted his wings in understanding. "I need to taste the atmosphere," he said in Vosian, before switching back. "And then return to the Nemesis. Comm me if you feel the need to go driving so I can keep an optic on you."

"I will," Prowl promised. "Clear skies and fair winds for your flight."

"Actually I'm hoping to find a good storm," Starscream said with a humorless grin as he headed towards the door, which opened for him. He paused when he was almost through and turned halfway back. "But thank you."

"There is a hurricane halfway across the Atlantic, 30 north, 52 west and Lake Superior is under a storm watch," Prowl offered with a flick of his doorwings, acknowledging the thanks and expressing his wish that Starscream find what he needed in the skies.

"...Thank you," Starscream murmured, before he made his very quick escape from the oppressive walls and ceilings and felt better as soon as there was nothing between him at the upper atmosphere. He soon felt himself flanked, at a distance, on one side by the Rainmakers and on the other by an Autobot Seeker that he had _no_ wish to fight again. Dogfight was feared as much as hated, but also pitied for being trineless and completely insane.

He didn't bother wondering where they'd all come from or how they'd known to find him, but he didn't order them to the ground. They would obey their Air Commander, but they were here to protect a Vision, and he wouldn't make them stop. They were trying to grasp at what little remained of their culture, and encouraging the foundation of the _trine_ and their roles was probably the most important thing they could do right now. 

He dove into the hurricane and lost track of them and everything else as soon as the wind slammed into his frame.

* * *

Starscream glanced down at Prowl from where he was flying overhead, checking his speed to stay evenly paced with the grounder. Prowl had commed him, as promised, before going out for a drive and they had been rocketing through the vast plains east of the Ark. He'd already had a few run-ins with the local organics, but he'd reached a municipality with higher limits and little population, and it seemed to be a place he knew well as he lapped their roads at speeds far, far above anything a native vehicle could manage. It was very different from his behavior closer to the Ark, and did seem tied to a territory that he continued to drive.

After nearly two joors and well into the area's night cycle, Prowl turned towards home, his speeds shifting as he moved through various jurisdictions until he turned onto a road that lead to nowhere but the top of a blown-out mountain filled with water.

Starscream lapped it once, taking in the layout and noting the sparse human presence in the general vicinity before he landed next to Prowl and transformed up, scanning around. "Interesting geographic formations," he commented. "Recent volcanic activity." He looked at Prowl. "Not back to the Ark?"

"Not yet," Prowl said as he sat down on the snowy edge of the rim and stared at the forming volcanic cone in the center. Unlike the last time he'd been on a cliff edge, he teeked much more stable. It didn't hurt that this wasn't a fall that would likely do serious damage. "I enjoy watching this place. It is everything Cybertron and the war is not, yet also with very little human presence. The cone has grown since I first visited."

Starscream regarded it. "Still such an unstable planet," he said as he came to sit down next to Prowl. "The amount of organic life that survives the conditions is..." He looked down with barely-concealed distaste at the surface that he could tell was just crawling with microforms. "Remarkable." 

"It is that very instability that allows the conditions that permit their kind of life. It is also why this world is disproportionably resource and energy rich for us," Prowl added.

Starscream looked at him. "How is the Ark?"

"Not as explosive as I anticipated. It seems that a greater proportion of the Autobots here have useful civilian skills they are willing to utilize than I anticipated." Prowl looked at him, gaze lingering on the wings and every place that had been damaged. "How fair the Decepticons?"

"Most are angry," Starscream said. "For now I'm just trying to keep them contained." He watched Prowl's gaze moving over him. "Do you really think it would be easy for me to betray you, because of Skywarp?"

"I know the odds are low, however they have little effect on such strong emotional reactions for a klik or two. After the tac-net shunts all emotional output into a secondary thread I can process it better," Prowl tried to explain something he did not understand well and he knew his doorwings were showing it.

"Does it do that with all strong emotion, or just unpleasant ones?" Starscream asked.

"Strength is the key factor. Unpleasant ones are shunted faster, since I am generally fighting the effects."

"So grief is shunted before love," Starscream murmured. 

"Generally, yes," Prowl flicked his doorwings in agreement and stared out over the ice cold, crystal clear lake, its center cone, the far rim and beyond to the clouds that were forming.

"What a strange existence that must make for. Would you really want to give it up?" Starscream watched his lover as the speed-induced calmness began to slide into numbness once more.

"It is difficult to remember much else," Prowl shrugged. "War made far more changes than the tac-net. Do I wish to give it up? Not particularly. It is extremely useful. Do I wish I had what it took from me? Definitely. I miss being normal enough to pass for it, to find people more interesting than work, at least some of the time. I miss being able to look at something, _anything_ and not have to listen to the tactical value, danger or risk it poses. I can't even look at a _painting_ the way you can. This," he motioned out to the lake. "It is beautiful, in an organic way. But I cannot sit here and simply look at it. When I look I get reports on seismic activity, probability of an eruption, landslide, avalanche, the risk the water poses if I fall or slide down, the risk for you of the same. I can't talk fast enough to list out all the reports I get every klik just sitting here, looking at a peaceful scene."

Starscream looked out over the same scene. "And when you look at me?"

"Desire, want, safety, grief, then all the reports on your physical condition, the risks of you falling, the risks of you attacking, and more," Prowl listed, knowing full well just how different it was from his reaction to most mecha.

Starscream just nodded, and several kliks passed in silence before he turned at the waist and leaned in, taking Prowl's face in his hand, turning him into a kiss. The lip plates under his were soft and pliant, so very willing. Prowl's hands came up to stroke Starscream's canopy, then out to feel the fresh repairs.

Starscream pressed forward and his wings came up, covering, claiming as the kiss deepened. "Fly with me," he murmured, after releasing Prowl's lower lip from his denta. "Right now, I want you in the air." He teeked the spike of fear, the uncertainty, desire, excitement. He could _feel_ it as the tac-net screamed objections loud enough that Prowl's doorwings shook.

In the end though, a full half klik later, Prowl nodded. "How?"

"You just have to hold on," Starscream said, pulling Prowl up to his pedes and bringing the tactician's hands to his frame. "Here and here. When we're high enough I'll need my alt mode."

Prowl nodded and held on. There was a hint of fear with the excitement, but also the background calmness that Starscream knew well was his lover's natural state.

"Just like that," Starscream praised, wrapping his arms around Prowl before lifting up with his thrusters, going straight up into the sky. He waited until the planet's surface was distantly below them, fully enjoying the way Prowl was teeking from the thrill and risk and the spark's _joy_ to be so far from the ground again. He stopped and tilted Prowl's face up away from the view. "I'm going to transform. You're going to fall, but I'm going to catch you. All right?"

"Understood," Prowl did what was unthinkable a metacycle ago and relaxed his grip so he was only touching the plating. "I'm ready."

Starscream kissed him, and then cut his thrusters and let go, pushing against Prowl's chest. They fell away from each other and Starscream transformed, his nosecone pointing straight at the ground as his thrusters kicked on and he tracked Prowl, rocketing straight down and getting beneath him, belly up. The impact forced him down but a rapid turn stabilized them both again and he took off, flying upside down. "How was that, then?" he asked, laughing from the thrill.

Fear, trained fear, was wild in Prowl's field as he gripped plating tightly, but so was the intense thrill from his spark at being in the _sky_ once more. It was enough to drag a low moan of excitement from him.

"Make sure you've got a good grip," Starscream said, and waited until Prowl's hands worked their way under the offered plating. "Knees up, get your pedes braced. I'll be like this most of the time but when I need to roll with the wind you'll have to hold on. If you slip off I'll catch you, I can accelerate faster than you can fall." 

It wasn't perfect, but being in the sky with a lover after a loss, no matter what else, was everything Starscream's spark had been crying out for. To be up here and not be _alone_. 

That it was making Prowl's spark throb with joy against him just made it better.

"Understood," Prowl easily relaxed into it, the tac-net capable of managing an inter-galactic war now directed at calculating the best way to position his frame and grip to give the most security for the least impact on Starscream's performance. The more his tac-net focused on physics, the stronger the relaxed joy of being in the _sky_ rose in his field. The less he had to think the more his field meshed with his lover's and they could lose themselves in the pleasure and comfort that their sparks longed for.

Starscream flew with the winds and chased down the sunrise, ignoring the pings, warnings, and blatant threats as he cut through different nations' airspaces, far above what the humans' planes could manage. 

Nearly three joors in the air, circling storms and dancing in the atmosphere, and he felt calmer than he had since Skywarp's death. Not better, never better, but there was a relief there. Prowl felt calmer, too, from where he was pressed warmly against his plating. The tactician was relaxed, content. "I'd like to be inside you," Starscream said.

"Yes," Prowl moaned with a flare of anticipation that couldn't have come from wanting such a simple pleasure.

Starscream couldn't be sure, he didn't have the first clue about Aerial culture with the nobles of Polyhex, but he could guess that the first interface in the sky had as much significance for Prowl as it had for him.

Without being prompted, Prowl shifted his mass down Starscream's frame until he was just above the thruster housings where they lay alongside the Seeker's root-mode pelvis.

Starscream gave a short gasp and a shiver as his spike panel snapped away, already burning hot from the time spent in the air. With another Seeker, this was one of the most transcendental experiences. He hoped it would be the same for Prowl. There was no hesitation in his lover as frame and grip were rearranged, then legs pressed against the underside of his thrusters and his spike was enveloped by slick, tight heat and the resonant moan traveled from Prowl to Starscream and back.

The Seeker settled into a strong, steady current and monitored his speed and altitude on a background thread, left a proximity alert up, and shift the rest of his focus to Prowl. Heat spread up through him and he had to let Prowl control the speed and movement, until he couldn't hold himself back. "Something's going to happen, it might feel strange, and I don't know how it will work with a non-Seeker frame," he managed. "I can disengage if it hurts."

"Understood," Prowl's moan was less telling than his field. That was electric and completely willing. He relaxed his valve and frame as much as safety would allow.

Starscream waited until he was fully stable in the air and felt that Prowl's grip was steady and fully seated around him, then let go of his restraint and the flight interface protocols engaged. Ridges lifted up from his spike, pointed towards the entrance, locking their frames together. His entire frame shuddered and lacking the friction of movement to build charge, his spike rippled with independent current taken from his systems, transmitting it directly into Prowl's valve lining.

The Praxian _howled_ , screaming the pleasure to the wind. His valve worked the textured spike, rippling and catching the extended ridges to press them up and out as calipers closed under their edge. It was beyond bliss for Starscream. Not even his trine took such care to pleasure him, knowing that the overload would come without effort.

It was so much sensation that even his flight pattern was thrown, sending him into a roll to avoid being thrown from the current. Prowl held on tightly and Starscream finished correcting, settling belly up with a sharp moan. 

It took almost nothing before he overloaded, his systems hot from the flight and exhilarated from feeling Prowl's thrill from the air. His cry cut the thin air and he shuddered, shooting transfluid deep into his lover. He lost all control of his form, but flight-interface protocols kept him reasonably level. That was simpler than keeping two Seekers lost in overload and locked together from tearing apart.

Wind screamed across his scalding plating, free electricity lapped at his plating and ran rampant though his system until the white out began to clear with the sensation of Prowl trembling against him. Starscream had no time to be insulted that his lover hadn't overloaded when he felt Prowl let go of his self-control.

The energy of the grounder's overload slammed into Starscream along with the pleasure of it. Prowl's grip was secure, but the rest of his frame twitched and ground his valve array against Starscream's spike housing as the calipers squeezed and rippled, trying to coax just a bit more out of his lover.

It was easy to tumble over into another overload. The locking was designed to keep a sire fully seated inside a carrier, and once it was engaged priorities shifted to allow for fast, easy overloads. Starscream felt the charge all the way out to his wingtips as he spilled again, and he felt like he was spinning through a free fall even though every instrument promised him that he wasn't.

Slowly Prowl's deathlock grip eased as his overload smoothed out to a pleasant tingle. "Again?" He trilled with a squeeze of his valve.

"Yes," Starscream moaned, as they shot through the sky together.

* * *

When they finally returned to the Ark, it was by air and Starscream had Prowl firmly in his arms, though the mech had shown no signs that his flagging energy levels had affected his ability to lock his grip. It had been amazing. _Felt_ amazing. Not just the multiple overloads until he'd nearly been grounded by his need for energon, but how eagerly Prowl had participated. It was everything flying with a mate should be and had even allowed Starscream to forget how deformed Prowl's frame was for a few joors. That it had been just as good for Prowl, emotionally and physically, just made it all the better.

"What did you _do_ to him!" the red demon twin snarled as he landed, looking ready to charge, blaster powering up in his hands. 

"Fragged him senseless," Starscream grinned at the way it seemed to completely dumbfound the warrior.

"Wonderfully so, in the sky," Prowl added with an off-kilter smile of his own.

"Always said you needed a good frag. This wasn't what I had in mind," Sideswipe muttered but got out of the way, more bewildered than upset now.

Prowl didn't respond, but his field flickered with mirth as Starscream helped him through the halls. It was with some pride that Starscream escorted his very shaky lover to his office. There were stares, of course, almost everyone walking past looking at the way Prowl was leaning against the Seeker because he needed the support and Starscream was happy to smirk about it. He knew it wasn't unknown that they were lovers, but this was the first blatant display of it, and Prowl was not known for blatant displays, except of the scary officer kind.

They'd been locked together for two joors in the sky and Prowl was teeking thoroughly, wonderfully exhausted. After the anger and uncertainty and grief, time spent to themselves had been exactly what they'd needed. 

"Sit," Starscream said, once they were inside, and pressed a cube of energon into his hands.

Prowl obeyed without question, a smile on his lip plates even as he drank and gradually got enough of his processor functional to figure out where they were. He gave a startled glance around his office before finishing the cube. "This will distract them nicely," he gave Starscream a relaxed, pleased look. "That was absolutely amazing."

Starscream gave a deep, pleased hum, his smile still solidly more like a smirk as stroked his thumb over Prowl's lower lip, gaze fixed on his mouth. "I'm glad you enjoyed," he purred. The kiss Prowl gave it made his turbines whirl.

"Just how badly scuffed is my plating?" Prowl purred and dissipated the cube. His optics roved over Starscream's plating, noting the placement of the scuffs and paint transfers there. "Is that something you'll want to show around the Nemesis?"

Starscream glanced down, frowning. "Nemesis ... yes. Other Seekers ... no." He huffed, then turned towards Prowl's frame, looking up and down, and the smirk returned. "You mean besides all this," he said, splaying his hand out over the white and red scuffs on Prowl's black pelvis.

"Yes, I will need to clean up." Prowl said. "It is unsuitable for a commander to be seen on duty like this," he stood and slid his hands up Starscream's chest as he reached for a kiss. "I have three and a half groons before my duty shift begins, if you'd care to use the officer washracks with me."

"I might just scuff you up more if I do that," Starscream purred as he nipped at Prowl. "And then you'd be _late_."

"That would be unacceptable," Prowl murmured reluctantly. "You are still welcome to use the washrack, or polish up here."

"I'll come with you," Starscream said, with a knowing look. "I'm worried about your ability to walk there." 

Prowl gave him a look. "And it will create quite a fuss in the halls." 

Starscream grinned widely. "Yes, and it will create quite a fuss in the halls."

"You are incorrigible," Prowl twitched his doorwings in faint amusement. "On a related subject, I do believe we should begin to spend visible time together. Much like we did when you were Mirage. Did you actually enjoy playing Sovereign with me?"

"Very much," Starscream admitted as Prowl stood. "I wanted to try it with my own processors." They walked out together, Starscream's posture tense but only in a way that another winged build would interpret.

"Perhaps every fourth orn we can schedule a joor or two to play?" Prowl suggested.

Starscream canted his wings in agreement and looked around the disconcertingly familiar halls. He didn't like the low ceilings or the orange any better in this frame than he had the last, and if possible, liked them even _less_. "If possible, you should come to the Nemesis for the same reason," he murmured. "Though it might be better to compete in something more physical." He switched to comms. ::I'll need to tell my Seekers some more about your history if we do.:: 

"That was my next suggestion. What do you suggest?" Prowl replied smoothly. ::Tell them what you must. That I still feel shame from a caste that rejected me and no longer exists is my problem, not a political one.::

"I can't take you on the ground and you can't take me in the air," Starscream said with a grimace. "Perhaps something more neutral, like a shooting match." ::If they think you are Praxian, _truly_ Praxian, they will not accept your presence in their space. Nor me if I bring you there. There's already tension, and I don't think Thundercracker will be going out of his way to explain it to them before I do.::

::That I have surrendered my wings, no matter why, is not as bad?:: Prowl asked with genuine curiosity. "I would enjoy a shooting match. What of other physical tests? Balance, speed, agility."

::You didn't _surrender_ them, you were _clipped_ against your will,:: Starscream said. ::And that makes all the difference. That you worked and tried to get them back says even more. You have been chained and used, and they will see that, just as I have.:: Outwardly he chuckled. "Speed? You, against _me?_ I'd like to see _that_."

"I should give you _something_ you can win," Prowl gave a playful flick of his doorwing as they entered the officer washracks and noted it was currently empty. ::Perception is an interesting thing. It was always phrased that I surrendered them because I refused to obey. I can understand how you see it. I believe I agree with it as well,:: he added as he walked to a corner showerhead and turned it on.

::Seekers don't believe in castes, they believe in the Trine and the links we form through it,:: Starscream said. ::Mates are a choice. You exercised that choice and were clipped.:: He joined Prowl under the same stream of water, kissing him deeply. "If we want to pass you off as an equal, we'll need to both win some. Targeting, speed, strength are the most important. If we spar, I'll need to have already won enough that a loss won't destroy me. And if you want them to respect you, you'll need to win _properly_." He grimaced. "Victory rites and all."

"Mmm, perhaps before I win a match, we can work on making it less traumatic for you," Prowl suggested gently as arousal flared though his field and warmed his frame. "Unless the violent visual is needed?"

"It helps," Starscream said, frowning at the idea. "We'll both look weak if it appears wanted and consensual. You for not subduing your opponent, me for submitting to it."

Prowl twitched his doorwings in understanding, though the undercurrent of displeasure was strong. "Then I will look less willing when you win, and I will try to make it look forced on you when I do. I have done far worse in the pursuit of peace."

Starscream grunted in agreement. "It should only come into play if we spar. Targeting, speed, those both have clear victories. Sparring--and don't call it that, by the way, that sounds too proper-- _fighting_ is all about asserting physical dominance and proving you can force another into such an act."

"Understood," Prowl agreed with a determined expression. "When we _fight_ it will be for the good of our status, not for the truth." Reluctantly he pulled back a bit to stand in the spray and began to scrub the marks from his legs. "I am counting on you to guide me though the best responses and patterns for the challenges to produce. What I know is of limited accuracy. There hasn't been an Autobot trine in a very, very long time."

"Which is why your Seekers are insane, by the way," Starscream said, watching Prowl work. "Trineless."

"That much I know," Prowl huffed. "Unfortunately they all seem more inclined to be that way than accept trining with Seekers they don't want. At least that was what I learned from my early efforts to get them to socialize enough to trine. I believe there might be a psychological tipping point where the trining code might break down, or something to that effect. We have enough Seekers for at least most to trine, but every last one of the survivors has refused to. Most refuse to even be stationed in the same unit as another Seeker."

"They're fools, then," Starscream said, frowning deeply. "I'm amazed they're functioning. You might be right. Seekers never lasted as long as they have without a trine, so no one has ever examined the long term effects."

"War does bad things to everyone's coding," Prowl murmured. "Wash my back?"

Starscream's wings twitched unhappily. "Turn around," he said, and he tried to keep the disgust out of his field as he found himself faced with the signature Praxian doorwings. "I can get here," he said, and touched Prowl's lower back.

"Thank you," Prowl trilled his approval and thanks, and gave no hint that he was anything but pleased with the counter-offer.

Starscream worked quickly, though he clicked his displeasure with the task more than once as he worked his fingers around the armor plating, working into the seams and helping the solvent dissolve away much of the organic muck that this planet was covered in. It even came in the skies, dust and lifeforms, and after their time spent up there, it was well worked into both their seams.

Prowl groaned and fluffed his armor out in an act of distinct trust that made cleaning easier. "Would you like the favor returned?"

"Yes," Starscream said immediately, sounding a little relieved. The fluffed armor helped him work faster and he very quickly finished up with the area before pulling his hands away and stepping back.

"Switch places," Prowl moved so Starscream could get more directly under the spray. "Anywhere I shouldn't touch on your wings?" 

"No," Starscream said, and rested his arms and forehelm against the wall behind the spray, and sighed as Prowl started to clean. "Better hope that there are still some Neutral Seekers, or that yours will start trining again."

"Agreed. Though as long as they've gone on, they might well hold out until there are new adults," Prowl said as he went to work. His fingers began at the top outer edge of the right wing and gradually worked his way in, then out and down. A careful pattern designed to ensure that nothing rinsed, rubbed or cleaned out slid across clean platting. "I hope that peace will bring many mecha to form the social bonds long avoided during war. We are a social species. It is unhealthy for any mecha to be solidly alone."

"True," Starscream said with a low, pleasured groan as his wings arched into the touch. "There aren't many Visions left, hopefully they'll create enough of each role to balance out, and quickly."

"If my understanding of historical numbers are anything to go by, coding should level the field fairly quickly. There have been devastating wars before where few Actions survived and many Orders perished. Yet within a millennia the numbers were level once more. It is likely to take longer this time, but it should happen." Prowl wanted to see the best hope for the future, even with the scant evidence he had. "I would also anticipate larger than typical clutches for several centuries."

"Pit," Starscream said, with a huffed laugh that mellowed into a pleasured moan at Prowl's attention to his wing flap joints. "Seekerlings are little destruction-prone glitches with wings. Won't that be fun."

Prowl paused as he contemplated that. "Starscream, how many Seekers still functioning have raised Seekerlings?"

Starscream cringed. "The coneheads raised triplets near the end of the Golden Age. That's it. How many still-functioning mecha have ever raised _anything?_ "

"Not many, though a few of the older Autobots have had creations," Prowl said thoughtfully. "Hound and Bluestreak likely have the most experience, even if it's not with sparklings."

"Blaster and Soundwave too," Starscream said, "Most of us were too young when it all started..." He trailed off, vocalizer chirring quietly from the washing.

Prowl simply smiled and took longer than he strictly needed, his hands moving across the broad planes of the wings and Starscream's back. He had to stop sooner than either wanted to. "Time for you to wash the rest of you. Optimus is coming to see to my doorwings."

The relaxation vanished, wings hiked up. "He's what."

"Optimus is coming to see to my doorwings," Prowl repeated calmly. "Since it disturbs you, and I do need them cleaned." He stepped away and under a second solvent spray as the door opened and the large mech entered. Starscream turned around.

"Hello, Starscream," Optimus greeted politely.

Starscream gave a low, growling hiss from deep in his chassis as he narrowed his optics at the Prime and stayed right where he was. 

"Starscream, he's a _mech_ ," Prowl chided his lover. "We all have issues with others, but please _try_ to be civil."

The growling noise ceased, but the tilt of Starscream's wings became no more polite.

"Are you going to do this to _every_ mech I ask to help clean up until you'll do it?" Prowl asked with a bit of exasperation, motioning Optimus over when the big mech didn't move after Starscream's warning.

"No," Starscream said flatly, watching with sharp focus as Prowl tilted his doorwings up for Optimus to clean.

"I'm not your enemy, Starscream," Optimus said calmly as he went to work, his touch professional and knowledgeable of Prowl's frame.

"No, you're not," Starscream said easily, optics tracking every movement. "Just a symbol of a time and belief set that helped to send our world into chaos and Pit."

"The Senate had far more to do with what happened than the Prime," Optimus pointed out. "Becoming Prime was not a choice for me any more than losing his wings was for Prowl. I never wanted power, but I have done my best to uphold what Prima believed in since being thrust into it. Your freedom to hate my title being one of them."

"Decent of you," Starscream said. "I don't particularly care whether or not you presented the right conditions or stimuli to prompt a parasite to choose you as host, and I suppose it is not your fault that you believe in its divinity. But so long as that thing is in your chest, you will represent something _vile_ to me."

"What is vile about knowledge, Starscream?" Optimus was honestly curious.

"Knowledge is the opposite of what Prime and the priests represented," Starscream said. "We have almost no understanding of what the Matrix is or does, or how it works, and yet its seemingly random choices have placed immense power and influence into the hands of mecha not suited for the task. And still the priests of both Nova and Sentinel refused to let it be scientifically studied. Where is the _knowledge_ in that?"

"Its knowledge is all of what every bearer has known," Optimus began an explanation he knew wasn't enough. "I cannot and will not attempt to justify the actions of those who bore it before me. A Prime is still a mecha, and like all mecha, a Prime has faults. What studies would you have done on it?"

"I would attempt to recreate the conditions which prompt a 'choosing' behavior," Starscream said. "For a start. I would like to isolate it and see how it responds to a variety of different simuli, see if we could predict how it makes its choice. Its structure and biology are so foreign to us, but if it is a life form, there must be a way to measure that."

"History indicates that the conditions for it to choose a new host, as you'd put it, is the deactivation of the current one," Optimus said cautiously. "While I am quite interested in learning what the Matrix really is, I won't deactivate for it." He focused on Prowl's doorwings again when one nudged his hand. "It has been separated from its Prime before and did not activate within those who had it."

"Circumstantial evidence," Starscream said. "And it may be that it forms a link with its host's spark, but we don't _know_ that yet. That's all I want. I want to _know_. If it turns out that it is a direct link to a disembodied spark that miraculously survives in the center of a planet, then fine, but I need proof. Solid, empirical _proof_."

"I am willing to have the Matrix studied," Optimus offered. "However, since it is part of me there will be some limits on the damage done in this search for the truth."

Prowl looked over his shoulder in surprise.

"Once the peace settles, there is no need for me to be prepared to take command again," Optimus told him. "I have little love for the existence I've been given. If the study changes it, so be it."

Starscream looked even more shocked than Prowl. "No priest will ever approve," he pointed out.

"What priests are there?" Optimus looked at Starscream. "And who are _they_ to deny _my_ rights to what is attached to my frame and spark?"

"Where there is a Prime, priests will follow," Starscream said, cocking his head. "There will be plenty scrambling for the power it once represented, and they will insist that they have a right to your frame. But they don't."

"That is where the law comes in. Slavery is forbidden," Optimus said as he finished cleaning Prowl's doorwings and stepped away. Starscream's possessive posture relaxed immediately. "Cybertron's government is secular now. Their claim cannot pass legal muster."

"That is written into the law," Prowl confirmed. "Thank you for cleaning my doorwings, Optimus."

"Of course." Optimus's optics softened slightly towards his former SIC. "Anytime."

Starscream flight engines did not growl as effectively as a grounder's could, but their meaning was unmistakable. "Feel free to go now," he said, and watched as the convoy class mech walked out of the shower area to dry off.

"He's a good mech, even if you despise his title," Prowl sighed as he flexed and fluffed his armor in a final rinse. "He's no threat to your claim either."

Starscream scowled darkly at the way Prime had left before walking over to Prowl and wrapping arms around him, wings blocking him from the entrance. "Don't really care," he said.

"Mmm, are you also this possessive of those close to you?" Prowl purred as he reached up for a kiss, his hands sliding along Starscream's canopy.

"Yes," Starscream said seriously, and pressed deeper into the kiss right as the door opened behind them, to a startled, quickly-stifled yelp. "Hello Ratchet," Starscream said without turning. 

"Oh for Primus--go get a _room!_ " the medic snapped at them. "And keep off of each other in the halls!"

"There is nothing in the regulations against kissing in public," Prowl replied even as he reluctantly pulled back a bit. "My shift beings in eight kliks," he told Starscream.

"Alas," Starscream said, but stepped away, ignoring Ratchet completely as Prowl finished drying before they both stepped outside. "I'm going back to the Nemesis."

"I will see you in thirty-nine joors for a game a Sovereign in the rec room?" Prowl asked as they began to walk towards the public areas of the Ark.

Starscream canted his wings in affirmative, and then in a farewell. Prowl mirrored the farewell and they parted.

* * *

Starscream saw his SIC waiting for him at the top of the now perpetually raised tower and cringed internally. Thundercracker did not look happy, even by his standards. His finish was dull and scratched, evidence of the mourning flight he'd taken for Skywarp, and in traditional Vosian fashion he would wait until all of his paint was worn away before repainting again. His wings were set aggressively and he stood with clenched fists as Starscream made his approach, and the moment he'd transformed back into root mode, his former trinemate grabbed his legs and pulled him from the air, slamming him down onto the top of the tower. 

"What is _wrong_ with you!" Thundercracker shouted, and jumped over him, fist catching Starscream's jaw. Starscream's wings flared in a vain attempt to regain his balance, but the punch was barely registered after all the times Megatron's immensely more powerful fist had impacted him.

"What?" Starscream struck back on reflex.

Thundercracker snarled at him. "What the frag do you mean, ' _what_ ,'" he growled. "How _could_ you? How long were you up there with him!" 

"He's my lover," Starscream snarled back. "I have a _right_ to be with him."

"Skywarp is _dead_ , do you even _get_ that?" Thundercracker demanded. "Do you even _care?_ I know you're not sorry but _damn_ it, Starscream, can't you even _pretend_ that you care? Because it sure doesn't look like you do!" 

The fight bled out of Starscream as fast as it had come and he looked away. "Go ahead, blame me for not understanding our trinemate well enough. I am sorry for not seeing it. Your mate's dead and mine isn't because we both failed him."

"I _do_ blame you," Thundercracker said brokenly. "I will never stop blaming you. But he fragging died for you and I'll be scrapped before I let you just forget that."

"I won't," Starscream's wings quivered in the grief that soon saturated his field.

Thundercracker slumped, and moved away, head bowed and wings to Starscream. "You forgot enough to go on a lovers' flight," he said. "I just--I don't understand how you can care so little that you can even _think_ about that."

"I couldn't ask you, not after what happened, and I ... I _needed_ to be with _someone_ ," Starscream said quietly. "I just couldn't ask you."

"Good, because I wouldn't have _gone_ with you," Thundercracker snarled. "You don't deserve to be with _anyone_ and I hope you die untrined and insane."

"Like that's in much doubt," Starscream shrugged, though he knew how much the insult hurt showed. How could it not, being one of the worst condemnations in Seeker vocabulary and coming from his own Order. Even though Thundercracker had rejected him, the mech was still his Order until replaced. Something that was painfully clear wasn't going to happen soon.

Thundercracker was silent for a long time. "I hate you," he finally said, voice low. "I don't think you deserve to be happy. I don't think you deserve to be _living_ , much less fragging, but I promised Skywarp I would do everything I could to make this peace thing happen, and so I'm not going to tear out your spark like I want to." He stood and looked over, optics glowing a dark, furious red. "But every time I see you starting to _enjoy_ life I'm going to _make sure_ that you remember what it felt like to have him deactivate on top of you because you were too _stupid_ and _prideful_ to let him live."

"You can tear out my spark once I'm no longer a leader. Twenty-four vorns," Starscream offered a promise he knew he'd regret, but he hurt too much not to give it.

Thundercracker's wings tensed and lifted with shock, disbelief-- _anticipation_ \--before they relaxed again. "I look forward to it," he said coldly, before he transformed and rocketed away.

"Not half as much as I do," Starscream sighed, absently wondering if he'd really allow that to happen. If he _could_ make himself allow it to happen. Then just how long Thundercracker would last if Prowl decided to be angry about it.

* * *

From the way Jazz's mouth was set when he walked into Prowl's office and cued the door to close and lock behind him as he sat down, Prowl could tell this wasn't going to be any easier than any of their recent "discussions." 

In fact, this one had all the potential to be worse.

"What can I do for you, Jazz?" he asked anyway, the standard greeting for anyone coming into his office that he hadn't summoned.

A blatantly open question, and Jazz barked a laugh. "What can _you_ do for _me_ ," he said. "You could authorize a hit on Starscream is what you could do for me." 

"Denied," Prowl replied. "Is there anything I am likely to authorize?"

"If you won't authorize a hit on the thing that hurt Mirage, no, there is nothing you're likely to authorize," Jazz said coldly as he sat down, posture fully relaxed but field anything but. "Look, mech, I know that most of the crew doesn't know who had Mirage's frame that whole time, but they _do_ know you were fraggin' it, and now they all see you fraggin' Starscream. Do you _want_ to be taken seriously?"

"Once the new government is established, no." Prowl said flatly. "As soon as I am able, I intend to disappear. Prowl does not have many vorns left and I am looking forward to it."

 _That_ seemed to startle Jazz enough for the mech to be silent for a few moments. "At which point I don't _have_ to ask you to take out Starscream," he finally said. 

"Jazz, you know full well that deactivating him is murder now and always will be," Prowl said patiently. "Whether you do it as an Autobot or civilian, if you are caught your rank and status will not help you."

"Oh, _please_ , like I'd get caught," Jazz said, and it came out with a low growl. "And I bet most mecha would be glad for it. You would too if you could actually see what a sparkless, glitched rapist he is. He'd better be the world's best frag, Prowl." 

Prowl's doorwings quivered with pent up frustration as he stood, his doorwings hitching up into a sharper than usual V. "You keep repeating that like it is even a consideration for me. Is your world truly that shallow? That the quality of a frag is how you determine the value of a mecha to you?"

"Is _yours_ so shallow that you don't take history and _actions_ into account?" Jazz snapped back. 

"Since he is willing to do the same for me, yes," Prowl shrugged, walking around to the front of his desk. "Or are you deluded enough to think that either of us are any better than they are? Any chance at peace requires forgiving what happened during the war and before it. I know you have done far worse than Starscream did to Mirage. Much of it under orders I gave." Prowl leaned forward and pinned Jazz to the chair with a hand on each chair arm to bring their optics level. "You don't have to like him, any of them, but if you harm this peace, I _will_ end you."

"I won't harm the peace," Jazz said. "And what I did, I did to _Cons._ I can't believe you actually _care_ about one of them, after everything they've done to our world." 

"We did just as much damage, Jazz. Even if you can't see it, I can't forget it. But tell me, just what is the moral difference between a Decepticon raping an Autobot and an Autobot raping a Decepticon?"

Jazz grimaced and didn't answer for a long time. "'Cons aren't under _my_ care," he finally said. 

"And they aren't under my command," Prowl added, his voice lowering slightly. "If Mirage has an issue, let him take it out during the next challenge cycle. I promise you both that I will be."

Jazz looked surprised, before he scowled again. "So if it isn't just fragging, what _is_ it?" he asked. 

Prowl looked at him, his doorwings giving a slightly bewildered flick before he stood and turned to sit down. "How many times do you need me to try to explain this to you? He is interesting, smart, has dreams that I like, that I fit into. We can spend time together and simply talk, play games and enjoy the company. More than anything, however, he knows who and what I am, and he doesn't judge me worthless for it."

"When did _any_ of us ever judge you as worthless?" Jazz demanded. "You have rank and respect, you're the most brilliant tactician Cybertron has ever produced."

"As a mech?" Prowl looked at him as he settled in his chair. "I am not ignorant of how hated and derided I am. Drone, sparkless, traitor, murderer. Worse than a Decepticon. Our Soundwave, but not as useful. I hear it all and how much they mean it. I am tolerated by officers because I am a fine tactician and by the rank and file because the Prime says to. I worked so much because that is what I had. I take no more time for myself now than I did when I believed Mirage had forgiven me and I take that time for the exact same reason."

"Forgiven you," Jazz repeated. "Forgiven you for what happened? He doesn't blame you for what happened."

"He's simply horrified and disgusted that something as worthless as I am touched him. He's _grateful_ a knife took his seal instead of me," Prowl hissed in real pain fuelled anger. "I thought he'd forgiven me for having turned my back on my noble heritage and not extinguished as I was supposed to when I was cast out," Prowl couldn't quite keep the deepening static of emotional pain from his voice. "Forgive me for being a less than a commoner and still outranking him."

Jazz twitched and his visor brightened. "Oh," he said. " _Oh_ \--your seal. You said..."

"Was still intact after all this time," Prowl nodded slightly. "What lovers I'd had were not interested in breaking it."

"Well I knew you'd lost it, but..." Jazz said, and trailed off uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," he said, voice brittle. "I didn't realize it was like _that_."

"It should not have been relevant," Prowl shrugged, but his doorwings betrayed just how emotionally fragile he still was and how big a deal it was for him despite not wanting it to be. "Even that I had it should not have been relevant. That Starscream was tender and thoughtful when he broke it should only matter to me. That Starscream enjoys my company and I enjoy his should only matter to us. That Starscream is risking everything, will surrender almost everything, to continue with me should not matter. It seems it all does to you. Why? Why must I justify wanting to spend time with the first mech since well before the war that wants to spend time with _me_ because he enjoys my company?"

"Because he _lied_ to you," Jazz said heavily. "Because it's obvious to everyone that this started before that cease fire and now everyone is drawing all kinds of conclusions, and some of them are wondering why they're following you instead of Prime. I'll be straight with you, Optimus is the only reason you don't have a mutiny on your hands right now."

"Then perhaps Starscream and I should both walk away and let the lot of you do as you please," Prowl snapped before he settled himself again. "When have I ever not had to rely on Optimus to avoid a mutiny, Jazz? I am not liked and not trusted. I never have been."

"But you're in _charge_ now," Jazz said. "It doesn't do for you to be spotted flying around the planet for days with Starscream. Public opinion _matters_."

"Not even two days, Jazz. We flew for five joors. I drove for two and a half. We talked for the remainder," Prowl growled. "So tell me, just how much better is public opinion really going to be if they don't see?"

Jazz's engines growled with frustration. "Not very," he admitted. "Look, I don't get it and I probably never will, and all I know is this is the first time I haven't been able ta go after someone who's hurt an agent and it's _your_ fault, so you can look forward to that match-up if you take me on."

"I will," Prowl promised. "It will need to be the last I hear from you of my relationship with Starscream or attempting to undercut my authority."

"Fine," Jazz bit out as he stood. "That's all I need, _sir_."


	10. Things They Have in Common

Starscream was getting very good at avoiding Thundercracker on the Nemesis, and having chosen deserted quarters far away from his former trinemate's had only helped matters. He slipped in to find Prowl waiting and his mouth turned up in a smile. "Pit I've been looking forward to this," he said.

"As have I," Prowl purred and fluttered his doorwings appealingly. "Though I think we should do a little work before you frag me into the berth."

Starscream frowned at him as he sauntered over. "Work?" he complained, and pushed Prowl into a seat on the edge of the berth before climbing onto his lap. "What about if I just make you work _for_ it," he purred.

Prowl hummed, his armor loose and field bright with desire as he reached up to stroke Starscream's face. "We'll have to fight soon, for display and for real in the gathering. I would like that to not be the first time I feel your mouth."

Starscream's wings dropped. "Oh," he said, and the seduction vanished from his field. "...It _could_ be the first time you feel my mouth, that would look incredibly authentic."

Prowl's doorwings dropped in answer and he looked down. "I'm not sure I could manage. I'm not the actor Jazz is."

Starscream groaned and rolled his optics. "Of all the mecha," he muttered to himself, then backed up and dropped down to his knees, gesturing at Prowl's pelvis. "Fine, let's have it."

"Thank you," Prowl murmured and reached out to caress Starscream's cheek as his spike cover slid open. "Are they expecting me to pressurize quickly?"

"Yes," Starscream said, watching the housing like something was going to come out of it and bite him. Wings tense, unhappy, irritable.

Prowl made an unhappy sound but sent the command rather than allow arousal to generating it naturally. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't _hurt_ me it's just a spike for Pit's sake," Starscream scoffed, but he made no move to go anywhere near it. He scowled and looked up at Prowl. "No Decepticon does this willingly."

"Because it is used so often as a display of power?" Prowl guessed as he reached to gently stroke the top of Starscream's wings. "You know that is going to go away within the vorn."

"Maybe it won't be in public anymore," Starscream said. "Making it illegal to force another won't stop it from happening. It's proof of who's stronger."

"It is rape if both parties do not agree to it," Prowl pointed out. "If both parties agree, it's not a legal concern unless it's public indecency."

"But we _do_ agree," Starscream said, exasperated. "We agree that if you frag someone off, or pick a fight, or just plain can't hold your own, that you get a spike down your intake when you lose."

Prowl sighed. "Agreement is no longer an assumption you can make with any mech. You can't even assume that a fight is going to be a legal way to settle differences. Decepticons will have to learn to _ask_ if the other mech agrees, each and every time."

"Ugh." Starscream's gaze hadn't moved from Prowl's spike. A few more moments passed before he crossed his arms over his cockpit and finally looked up at Prowl's face, wings set defiantly. "So are you going to do something with that?" he asked irritably.

"You hate it that much?" Prowl asked unsteadily.

Starscream just _looked_ at him.

The Praxian sighed and shook his helm and allowed his spike to depressurize, then closed the panel. "You'd better hope I'm a better actor than you are willing to trust me."

"Wha--it is _not_ about trust!" Starscream protested. "It has nothing at all to do with trust!"

"Really," Prowl leveled his gaze. "Then what is it about? Fear of failing?"

"No," Starscream sulked, and he looked ridiculous from where he knelt on the floor, wings tilted to match his petulant expression. "I just don't like it."

Prowl hummed thoughtfully and cupped his hand under Starscream's chin to tip the pouting face up for a kiss. "What part?" he trilled softly, almost cooing.

Starscream's engines grumbled even as he pressed into the kiss. "All of it," he said. "Being on your knees in front of someone. Having the thing just _jabbing_ your intake. Having to walk away with transfluid on your face, so everyone _knows_."

"What if you are over me, on the berth. I will not jab, I will not thrust. I'll lick off anything that gets on your face off," Prowl offered as he continued to stroke one wing with his spare hand. "And not start cold, like this. I'll warm you up first, and I'll get you off hard and often afterwards."

Another grumble, but this one had less strength to it. "Maybe," Starscream said, as his wing lifted into Prowl's hand, wanting more of the wonderful touch.

With a small smile Prowl shifted further onto the berth large enough for three Seekers. "Come lay down then, with your wings up."

Starscream's wing moved further up as Prowl's hand got further and further away until he couldn't reach anymore, whined in protest at the loss of the caressing fingers, and easily followed after Prowl to obey, stretching forward onto his front. He purred and arched as soon as the white hands returned, stroking the smooth, white planes with loving, practiced care. 

It made Starscream melt.

Slowly the Seeker began to moan with little trills of pleasure, the charge in his systems gradually rising as his lover took care of him, covering him and trilling at the pleasure being created.

It was bliss, in every way, and Starscream even forgot about what was coming after. Eventually he was panting and pressing into the touches, which seemed to be getting lighter instead of heavier, softer instead if firmer. 

He whined.

Prowl's heat was over one wing and the kisses along Starscream's helm came. "Warm enough to pleasure me now?" Prowl trilled against his audial, his field dancing with anticipation that felt nothing like what a Decepticon's would.

Starscream groaned softly, shuddering on what felt like was just the _brink_ of overload without anything to push him over, and lifted his head, dark red optics looking up at Prowl with half focus, glossa darting out briefly to trace his own lips. 

Uncertain, anxious, worried--but also _hazy_ and _wanting_ and determined. 

Prowl leaned in for a heated kiss and trailed his hand down Starscream's backstrut as he shifted to lay facing Starscream's pedes. It put his pelvis near Starscream's face, the spike already extended from genuine arousal. But instead of just waiting, Prowl slid his hand along Starscream's hips and urged him to roll over on top of him.

He could tell from the faint surprised flicker that this was new but Starscream complied, settling over Prowl. He carefully, hesitantly, pressed his lips to the tip of Prowl's spike in something not quite unlike a kiss before pulling away again. 

"Follow my lead," Prowl offered as he kissed Starscream's spike cover, then swirled his glossa around the center.

" _What_ lead you're already hard," Starscream said dryly, but his cover warmed and unlocked. Starscream pressed another kiss and swirled his glossa in a careful mimic of Prowl's motions, running hot and slick around the head. 

Prowl moaned softly, approval and pleasure caressing Starscream's field while he pressed his lips to Starscream's spike housing and swirling his glossa around it, coaxing the sensitive length out.

Starscream shuddered, hips rocking lightly, and brought the tip into his mouth. 

_Disgust-humiliation_

He forced the reaction down, choking on it as much as he'd choked on any spike he'd ever swallowed, and focused on what he was doing. Careful sucking, and a field that _screamed_ with arousal that was begging to be pushed hard enough for release. 

Gentle acceptance and affection flowed back, a complete absence of the domination and smugness and worse that Starscream was used to, and true to Prowl's word his hips didn't so much as twitch. It didn't take much for Prowl to coax Starscream's spike all the way out and gently took each bit into his mouth, his pace just a little faster than Starscream's.

The Seeker was relaxing, slowly, and as the kliks went by, being driven less by the _need_ to overload that had coaxed him into this in the first place. His mouth lowered down and his intake swallowed, familiar actions but so strange in how they were being executed. Prowl could still teek the uncertainty, the anxiety, but they were becoming less. 

Finally, Starscream's mouth pressed to his housing and he swallowed, and then stilled. 

_Uncertain_

Prowl's intense moan around his spike was telling that he was doing well. The Praxian frame was panting as he eased Starscream's hips up, licking and sucking as the length was drawn out. ::Doing well.:: Prowl commed him. ::Feels good.::

::At least there's that,:: Starscream said tensely, but he followed the action and pulled up, almost to the tip before he swirled his glossa again, and pressed back down. He moaned in time with Prowl, the sounds sending blissful vibrations through both of their aching spikes, and Starscream's hips _pushed_ again even as he sucked. 

He was aroused. 

Truly, intensely so. 

He moaned again, and the next push-pull came faster as he settled into something like a rhythm that Prowl easily matched. 

::Feels so good, Starscream,:: Prowl moaned his praise as he swallowed around the thick, ridged spike in his intake. ::Please...:: he panted.

Another deep groan around his spike, the way Prowl knew how to flex his intake and rub with his glossa, and Starscream's entire frame stiffened as he overloaded, crying out around Prowl's spike in his mouth. The sound was muffled, but strong, and his entire frame shook as he shot, again and again. It was enough even to forget what was in his mouth as he settled back onto an automatic bobbing motion as his hips jerked against Prowl's face and his transfluid was easily swallowed. 

Prowl had to rely on override protocols to hold himself as still as he'd promised, but Starscream's overload combined with the easier bobbing soon made him cry out around the spike in his mouth and the first burst of transfluid rushed through his spike, lighting up the thick mesh of sensors inside that small tube. It caught Starscream by surprise, as lost as he'd been, but the Seeker didn't pull away. He froze instead, swallowing rapidly around the length, getting as much of the transfluid down his intake as he could. 

::Don't stop,:: he begged, and pushed into Prowl's mouth again. The moment Prowl was cognizant enough, he applied his lips and glossa to the spike and ensured his intake was relaxed enough to take the large spike in easily to be swallowed around. Starscream bucked in response as he swallowed Prowl's length back down with a deep, shuddering moan, dazed from the dual energy discharge between their frames and seeking to duplicate it. 

He wasn't being forced. He was in control. _He_ was on top and the one allowing Prowl in. 

It was ... a rush. Overwhelming, in some ways, and not completely pleasant, but a rush. 

They rocked together until they overloaded again, this time closer to in tandem, and Starscream slumped down at the end of it, lifting off the spike in his mouth. His fingers curled loosely around it as he panted, cheek pressed to the slick, burning metal. "That was..." he whispered, allowing Prowl to lift is hips and shift so the Praxian could talk. 

"Amazing," Prowl offered, just as dazed.

"Don't think I'll just be wanting to do this all the time," Starscream mumbled, too relaxed for his voice to have its normal bite. 

"Good," Prowl purred, his hands stroking Starscream's hip and side. "I like other methods, especially when you pin me down and spread my legs wide."

"Oh?" Starscream said, optics slowly brightening. He nipped at the inside of Prowl's thigh. "What about when I make you beg to find some relief inside me?"

"It can be fun, but not as much as completely submitting, or completely dominating," Prowl shifted his hips to spread his legs a bit more. "I'm looking forward to when you'll lay on your back for me."

Starscream dipped his head down and x-vented against Prowl's valve cover. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

"I know. It won't be soon," Prowl said easily and shifted his hips and legs to offer it more easily. "Doesn't mean it doesn't make me hot to think about. I'm not a total submissive."

"I know, or I wouldn't waste my time with you," Starscream said, before circling with his glossa and enticing the cover to unlatch and pull away from him. He pressed a kiss to the rim, and shifted up onto his hands and knees as he swirled and licked. "Want me?" he purred.

"Yes!" Prowl arched at the mere thought. "Please. Fill me."

Starscream spent a few more lazy moments teasing at the valve rim, spreading the slick lubricant around as Prowl moaned and trembled under him before he finally lifted his head and turned, first claiming a deep kiss from his trembling lover, and then sinking between his legs into the welcoming heat. "This is better," he said.

"Yessss," Prowl moaned, shameless of his desires. His hands found Starscream's and he entwined their fingers, then guided the Seeker's hands to pin his own as he rocked into the deep thrusts of the exquisitely complex spike.

"You like this," Starscream panted as he thrust, happy to pin and claim. "Being under me like this. Later I'll take your mouth, _properly_."

Prowl simply moaned his pleasure and willingness, chasing the rising charge inside him by flexing and squeezing his valve around the spike he enjoyed so much.

Starscream sank into the movement and the pleasure, face pressing against Prowl's neck as he rocked almost lazily, both of them content to take their time after their previous overloads. It was familiar, enjoyed by both and very welcome after pressing boundaries.

"Love you," Prowl gasped as his charge built past the tingling stage and he began to chase it more eagerly.

Starscream's wings twitched a little as his vents caught. "Meant what I said," he managed. "Before. I meant it then. Thought it was the other frame, but I meant it."

"Good," Prowl turned his helm to kiss the side of Starscream's helm. "I want us to exist beyond the formation of the new government."

Starscream groaned, his fingers tightened on Prowl's hands, and he bit down against Prowl's neck as he overloaded. The surge of charge between their plating and the burst of charge-laden transfluid into the most sensitive parts of his frame drew a keening howl from Prowl as he shook in the grip of his third powerful overload of the evening.

Starscream sobbed above him, pushing and writhing through the overload, until it shuddered out of their frames. "Me too," he gasped, as soon as he could speak. "I want that too. I--told Thundercracker he could destroy my spark, when the elections come."

A stunned beat. "Why?" Prowl asked, too hazy in post overload to demand.

"Because he deserves it," Starscream said, panting against Prowl's armor. His hips pushed a little and he shivered through the aftershocks it created. "His mate died for me. He's my Order." 

Prowl slid his hands out from under Starscream's to stroke the wide white wings while his field paled, then settled into the neutrality of being heavily influenced by the tac-net. "So there will be no after for us," he said quietly.

"Not one that I can promise," Starscream said, and curled over Prowl. 

"Is there a time limit for when he can make that choice?" Prowl asked quietly.

"I suppose ... when the elections are over," Starscream said. "Or not long after. Not a common offering, I don't think there's precedent." 

"Do you want me to protect him if he does deactivate you?" Prowl asked thoughtfully. "Not turn him in, not press for an investigation."

"I don't really care," Starscream said. "Just don't use my promise as evidence."

"Okay," Prowl murmured, still stroking the lax wings. "I suppose we should take every pleasure we can until then."

"You're taking this rather well," Starscream said dryly.

"What choice is there?" Prowl looked at him seriously. "You made a promise. I understand making peace with your actions can be more important than me."

"That's ... very Autobot," Starscream said. "Mm, and logical. Very you," he decided, with definite approval.

"And very much not your style," Prowl trilled with mild amusement and pleasure that his lover could approve of how he was. "I am looking forward to when the treaty transitions to the new government and we can actually live together."

"Agreed," Starscream sighed, and tucked against Prowl's neck.

* * *

Jazz lounged in his quarters, music blasting around him as he checked on the orn's results in the government setup before going to the scheduled gathering to vent grievances. He had to give Prowl and Soundwave credit for making it simple to check on changes. Every glyph added or changed was highlighted and notated, and updated based on when the mech checking had last reviewed the document.

Shock rippled through him at the highlighted 'most important' change: the governmental leader, at least until the elections. 

**Jazz**

It was noted as pending agreement by the mech in question, but ... _Pit_ , when did Prowl and Starscream decide to abdicate leadership?

They were now his SICs, with Blaster still in charge of Communications and Soundwave of Intelligence, while Starscream headed Science and Prowl took charge of Reconstruction. Politically, it was a good mix, and it undoubtedly took advantage of the mech's various talents and training.

But did he want to be leader?

Not really, but it was only twenty-four vorns until actual elections and it meant _Prowl and Starscream_ weren't running things. That in and of itself was worth it.

With no other hesitation, he confirmed his ID and then confirmed that he'd read all relevant data and duties of the position he was accepting. A moment later the document refreshed to show that Jazz was confirmed as the Protector of Cybertron.

Humming thoughtfully to himself, Jazz pinged his SIC.

::Yes, sir?:: Mirage opened the channel.

::Have you read today's update?::

::I have,:: Mirage said, catching the informalities in the subharmonics and dropping the formal phrasing. ::I fully agree with their choice. What are your thoughts?::

::It's gonna suck big time, but it's way better for the future than those two lovebirds,:: Jazz said. ::But if I'm leading this mess, I've got a good argument for you to be Chief of Intelligence, rather than Sounders. If you want the job.::

::Really now,:: Mirage mused over the line. ::I will give it some thought, and you my answer when I have decided.::

::Looking forward to the fights today?:: Jazz asked absently as he finished reading the orn's changes to the new government.

::They are a primitive, archaic way of settling a disagreement,:: Mirage said. ::Though at least better than the Decepticons' methods. I can't say I am.::

::And here I thought nobles were big on the idea of dueling,:: Jazz hummed, curious. ::Though I can't blame you for not looking forward to facing Prowler, even if I am.::

:: _Dueling_ ,:: Mirage corrected. ::This is brawling. Even if it is organized brawling.::

::What's the difference?:: Jazz asked as he turned his music off and left his quarters for the field in front of the Ark.

::Dueling is civilized, and refereed,:: Mirage said. ::There are strict rules on what is allowed in a hand-to-hand match, where an opponent can be struck, and so forth. Matches are timed, and the participants are judged as much on their technique as they are the outcome.::

::And this actually settled anything?:: Jazz sounded as dubious as he was.

::Oh, it wasn't to _settle_ anything,:: Mirage said. ::It was a sport, civilized. If you had issues with another mecha, you could pursue a legal recourse. If that was insufficient you could set about trying to destroy their reputation and good name, though that was not well looked upon if you were too obvious about it.::

::Different function then. Hopefully today will settle enough scores among us uncivilized mecha that nothing blows up in a vorn or two,:: Jazz gave an audible shrug as he exited the Ark to join the first of those gathering on the field. As TIC, he was one of those responsible for keeping things from becoming fatal. It was a job that was going to become a lot more difficult when half the gathering had a lifetime of grievances with the other half.

Of course, that was only if the Decepticons accepted or proposed challenges. They'd been invited to attend, but whether or not they would participate remained to be seen. As Jazz made his way closer he could predictably see that members of the two factions were staying well away from each other, which he was just fine with. The more distance, the better the odds of escaping this whole thing without incident. 

Prowl and Starscream were there, each on their respective sides. Thundercracker was standing in his usual place to Starscream's right, and the other Seekers were grouped around them, standing in threes. 

The rest of the mecha filtered in slowly, and tension across the lines grew, but with Starscream, Soundwave, and the Seekers serving as peacekeepers among the Decepticons, with Optimus, Prowl, and Jazz serving the same function with the Autobots, there weren't any incidents. 

That was fine with him.

With everyone who was going to attend present, which from the look of it was every mecha on Earth and likely a few from Cybertron, Prowl stepped to his customary place in the center where everyone would see him.

"Autobots, you all know the rules," he gave a glance towards those he nominally lead. "There will be one addition this cycle out of consideration of the challenge culture of half of those here. _If agreed to beforehand_ , any challenge may end with the loser giving forced spike oral to the victor." His gaze shifted to the Decepticons. "That does mean you must specify this _before_ the fight begins, and your opponent must agree to it."

That sent a shocked ripple through the Autobots, and even the Decepticons looked a little surprised. Jazz saw Starscream's optics brighten slightly. 

"Now, for those unfamiliar with how challenges work here," Prowl continued when he was reasonably confident that the Decepticons had gotten the point of the verbal consent requirement. "You may access the full, detailed rules here," he pinged everyone, Autobot and Decepticon, with the unsecured file location. "The key points are:

"Beginning with the lowest in rank and working up, each mech who wishes to issue a challenge to another will step forward and make the challenge before everyone. Required information is who you are challenging, your grievance and any special rules you wish to impose, such as those for a formal sparing event in a specific style, the level of acceptable damage before the fight is called, if flight, optional upgrades or Decepticon rules will apply." He paused to ping everyone with a detailed list of just what "Decepticon rules" meant. "The mech being challenged has the right to accept or decline any part of the challenge given, then may make a counter-challenge. If the mecha cannot agree on terms at that point both will sort out the terms with either Jazz or Optimus and then report the results to me.

"If a mecha wishes to challenge more than one mech this cycle they may, however that information will be required in the same time frame as the first challenge," Prowl continued. "I will determine the order based on a combination of the ranks involved, the factions and the time needed to give those with multiple challenges a chance to be repaired. If it is needed, this event will continue for multiple orns.

"Are there any questions?" Prowl asked, his gaze sweeping among both Autobots and Decepticons, lingering primarily among the Decepticons, as the Autobots were all well used to this process and many looked forward to it.

"How ... do we know when it's over?" Scavenger asked, stepping forward to the front of the pack. "The fighting, you know. If no one ever wins. Or do you just go until it does?"

"The default end to a match is when one mech surrenders or is rendered immobile or unconscious," Prowl told him. "Other endings may be set when the challenge is made and accepted. The only restriction I am aware of from how you are used to it is that you may not deactivate or cause permanent damage. The matches continue until everyone has aired their grievances and had an opportunity to fight."

Scavenger nodded, then disappeared back into the crowd. 

"Can a gestalt challenge as one?" Slingshot called out.

"As per Section 3, Subsection 4, only in combined form against another combined form," Prowl told him, creating a flurry of conversation among the grouped gestalts. "Subsection 5 applies to twins and other bonded units. Any other questions?"

Silence answered him from the entire Decepticon camp.

Prowl looked back to the Autobots, particularly the youngest members that hadn't been through this before. Various shaking helms responded.

"If you wish to make a challenge," Prowl continued, "Please step forward now. You will have another chance later, after the first round has finished, but that will be all for this orn. If there are more matches required, they will be scheduled for tomorrow."

There was another long moment of silence, and then more than a dozen mecha stepped forward from both sides. Prowl waited another beat, then inclined his helm and began with the first of the Autobots. 

"I wanna challenge Brawn," Cliffjumper said with a scowl for the other. "He knows why. No special rules or nothin', just a fist fight."

"Agreed," Brawn glared at him. "Mech's being an aft and he knows it."

Prowl flicked his doorwings in acceptance and moved on to take down pairs, grievances and rules.

There were snickers on the Autobot side, much to many Decepticons' bewilderment, when Sunstreaker pointed at his brother. "He's an aft. Used _my_ polish for his last date. Four dents."

"Yeah, yeah, it was worth it," the red warrior agreed cheekily. "You're on."

When Prowl reached the officers, both Jazz and Ironhide had stepped forward, along with several Decepticons. Prowl stopped at Ironhide first. 

"Ah've got Prime," Ironhide drawled. "Old fashioned-like."

That raised more than a few optic ridges, and several Autobots shifted uneasily.

"Reason?" Prowl requested, earning a hate-filled look from the ancient warrior.

"Fer Betray'in us with this treaty," Ironhide growled, all the frustration and anger about what was happening spilling out.

"I accept," Optimus inclined his helm.

Next, Prowl's gaze landed on his primary opponent from early in the war. The closest thing the Decepticons had to a tactical genius, Prowl had more respect for Onslaught than he should, and he knew it.

"Bruticus will challenge Computron. We need to settle who is better," the Combaticon leader said firmly. "As per the default rules, it will be to the breakdown of the combined form." He paused and regarded first Prowl, then the shocked looking mostly red mechs gathered together. "Decepticon victory caveat as individuals." He focused on Prowl. "Since the combined form does not have those parts."

Prowl inclined his helm slightly in acceptance from the organizer's standpoint, then looked at the Techobots.

"Sure, but not the, um, caveat," Scattershot said. "That's just weird."

Onslaught frowned and looked among the Combaticons, who did not look pleased, but after a moment of conversation amongst themselves, Onslaught turned back. "We propose just the two gestalt leaders for the caveat, then," he said.

Scattershot scowled, but with the buzzing across the gestalt bond he eventually nodded. "I hope you like to suck spike."

Onslaught just gave a low chuckle and inclined his helm. 

Prowl continued on, going through a small number of additional Decepticon challenges before he reached Thundercracker, who growled as he named his Air Commander. "I know I can't beat you but I'm going to enjoy giving you a beating."

Starscream gave him a wry look, but canted his wings in agreement. "You'll take your loss like a Decepticon," he said, and Thundercracker nodded.

Prowl moved to Jazz, who had a strange smile on his face. "Soundwave," he said, pointing across to the Decepticon security director. "Because you've been a pain in my aft for millennia, mech." 

"Agreed," the Decepticon said. "Query: will Jazz accept traditional Decepticon victory caveat?"

Jazz thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, why not," and then grinned. "Always like tryin' new things." His gaze shifted and got darker. "I also challenge Starscream. For hurting my agent. On the ground, no ranged weapons, and you can suck my spike when I win."

Starscream's optics narrowed. "Not on the ground. That's like asking you to fight blind."

"Then I'll do that," Jazz said. "Game, or coward?" 

Starscream hissed. "Agreed."

Prowl glanced over at Optimus, who agreeably stepped forward to take the datapad with the challenges on it.

"Starscream," Prowl, doorwings hitched high and angry, focused on his lover and the startled wings all around him. "For courting me as Mirage when you controlled his frame and what that did to both of us. No ranged weapons, Decepticon caveat."

 _That_ created a small uproar in terms of reaction as everyone stared at the pair, and shocked conversation immediately broke out across both lines with the information that it revealed. 

Starscream's wings were tense, but he nodded. "Agreed."

"Jazz," Prowl swung his focus to his long-time subordinate that was really anything but subordinate. "For being a complete glitch about the peace treaty and my relationship with Starscream. Standard rules?"

"Standard rules," Jazz said, waving a hand.

Prowl nodded, noted that they had been marked down, and took the datapad back. "Any other challenges this round?"

There was a beat of silence, and then Mirage stepped forward. "I name Jazz for not realizing I was not in control of my frame, and for the subsequent defiling." His gaze shifted to Prowl. "I name Prowl for the same." Last, he went to Starscream. "And Starscream, for being the one to go beyond the terms of his mission in such a way that brought about such harm. Traditional hand-to-hand, all three, and I will fight blind with Starscream so long as he remains grounded." 

There was a startled silence, then, "Agreed," Jazz said.

"Cy-Kisn rules?" Prowl asked as much as offered.

Mirage gave him a pleasantly surprised look. "Agreed," he said, and inclined his helm to the once-noble, who canted doorwings and helm in reply.

"Do you still have your swords?" Prowl asked.

"I do," Mirage said, and he even offered Prowl a smile as they agreed to the bladed duel before looking at Starscream.

The Seeker gave an irritated groan, but canted his wings. "Agreed," he said.

"Any other challenges?" Prowl called out.

None were offered.

"Very well," Prowl said, as he took the list back from Optimus, rapidly reviewing and sorting the challenges before pinging the schedule to everyone gathered. "Though we normally go mostly in order of rank, the specific nature of the numerous high-ranking challenges requires that we begin with a ranking pair," he said. "First up will be Mirage and myself."

"Gone ta get his swords," Jazz said. "You got yours?"

"Of course," Prowl reached into his subspace to pull two ancient, finely crafted and exquisitely decorated Tower-style straight swords the length of his arm, the width of half a hand and sharpened only on one edge. They gleamed with care and made those who knew blades stared that the Praxian seemed so at ease with them in hand.

Mirage returned just a breem later, transforming into root mode and bringing his equally well cared for swords to hand in the same shift. "Ready yourself," he said, gesturing to the center arena with ice in his voice.

Prowl canted his doorwings and settled easily into a defensive stance. Though only a handful of mecha recognized it for what it was, Mirage saw in the stance that Prowl's spark was not in defending himself. This would last until Mirage wore his anger out, or he scored enough points.

Movement from the sidelines caught their attention, as Blast Off came forward from the Decepticon huddle. "I know how to score this style," he offered. 

"Thank you," Mirage said, inclining his helm. "That would be very helpful." 

"Traditional scoring, or would you like to set a different goal?" Blast Off asked. 

"Traditional," Mirage said firmly.

"Understood," Blast Off nodded, then stepped back to the overseer's traditional place at the edge of the ring. Though there was no ring on the ground, all three knew the boarders just based on standards and where they all stood.

Prowl kept all his focus on Mirage, intending to give the mech exactly what he needed: enough of a fight to cool off and a victory to be vindicated by.

The fight started fast and furious, with blades swinging faster than any organic would have been able to see, and straining the visual capabilities of even the most sharp-opticked among them. It made more than a few Decepticons glad that Mirage was not a battlefield mech, the way his entire frame sang of a vicious, lethal grace.

Mirage held nothing back. He pressed for a hard assault, forcing Prowl to the defense as the two masters battled. And even though Prowl was not going to try for the win, he didn't make it easy. To do so would be an insult to Mirage and disgraceful for Prowl.

"You are _so_ slagged," Thundercracker said with a purr of anticipation. "He's not going to hold back against you."

" _Please_ ," Starscream said. "I know that frame inside and out." But even he didn't sound very convinced about his chances. They'd both seen what Prowl had done to the terror twins just to relax, and now they were watching the full extent of his defensive capabilities with a blade.

Mirage shouted as he brought one sword down _hard_ over Prowl. It was blocked at the last nanoklik, but the strength of the strike force Prowl down and back, his other arm coming in front to block the next strike. He spun and feinted, pressing for a quick offense before Mirage took that role again, pushing back with every step. 

The noble's bright yellow optics were glowing with his anger, grief, rage, betrayal, everything he'd felt upon learning what Prowl was and what he should have known. Every hit helped. Slowly, too slowly, as he beat Prowl back, pushed him around the circle only they could see, he felt emotions smooth. It wasn't the match, the violence, but oh _Primus_ it felt good to be on full display and have his complaint be proven right with every blow. There was no law, no precedent even if the law still existed, yet in Prowl he could feel the connection of a common upbringing.

In the occasional aggressive strike that Prowl delivered Mirage saw the pain, humiliation and anger that the contract's breaking caused. Even as they both understood the reason and agreed to it, Mirage could understand what Prowl was feeling all too well. Understood that he'd been the cause.

From the outside, their fight looked brutal. To them, it was aggressive but controlled, savage but civilized. The _right_ way to settle such an emotionally charged score. 

Despite Blast Off's offer, both were keeping track of the score on their own and as the numbers got higher and higher they neared the golden ratio that would indicate a win. Not a number reached, but a ratio that must be met, and above a certain point limit. It required both physical and mental dexterity from both fighters, and Prowl expertly held them from reaching that ratio until he could teek that Mirage was ready. 

A complicated series of strikes and spins ended with Prowl on his knees, Mirage's swords crossed over his neck, as one blade just barely nicked the surface of an energon line. 

"...Match," Blast Off said, sounding awed. 

Mirage spun his swords up and away, sheathing them in subspace before holding a hand out to Prowl. The defeated mech accepted it and rose gracefully, no more exhausted than Mirage was and more centered as well for the match.

"Thank you, Lord Mirage," Prowl bowed as a noble would, his doorwings and helm all angled perfectly for their respective ranks and status. He straightened and retrieved his swords, then retreated from the field to have a partial cube of energon and tend to his weapons.

Prime stepped forward. "Thundercracker and Starscream," he said, and then looked around. "Are there any willing flight frames who can keep up with these two, to ensure that the match stays legal?"

"I will," Dogfight stepped forward. "I know both sets of rules well."

"Both sets?" Optimus looked at him.

"Autobot and Seeker," the trineless Action said. "Not that I'll be alone," he flicked a wing towards three trines that had already taken off.

"Ah," Optimus said. "So long as they do not conflict." 

"They don't," Dogfight said, then with a shrug, added, "Much," before he transformed and rocketed away before Prime could question further. Without being asked to he opened an unscrambled transmission of the visual and several of his sensor readings for those on the ground to be able to watch and understand what was going on far above them.

"What is in potential conflict?" Optimus murmured as another of the Autobot Seekers, drawn from Cybertron, came to stand near him. 

"How much damage is allowed," the Seeker said. "And some complicated stuff having to do with trine positions and stuff ... not great at that part, myself." 

Optimus gave a calm hum as he watched the two fliers shooting through the sky, so fast it made his spark skip to watch. What Prowl and Mirage had been on the ground, Thundercracker and Starscream were in the air. Fast, deadly, and graceful. Around and around, occasionally losing their watchers as Starscream could far outpace all of them, but the pair and their swarm always looped back to the vicinity of the Ark, and it was in the same duty field that the grounders fought in where Starscream finally brought Thundercracker down. Half a blue wing was lost somewhere over the Pacific, as had been several small pieces of Starscream's armor, and they both showed heavy marks of missiles and blasters.

The fighting turned brutal once they were grounded, with Thundercracker tearing at the Air Commander and Starscream just as violent in response, the two of them gouging at wing plating and kicking their heel thrusters on at each others' legs. 

In the end, Starscream got Thundercracker pinned by flipping him to his back and getting his knees on the wings, grabbing his helm and pulling it to his pelvis as his spike extended. Both of Thundercracker's thrusters were too damaged to function and Starscream had torn off one arm. He'd lost the lower part of one leg, but it was enough to kneel on, and their energon soaked the ground beneath them. 

::Optimus, I am concerned about their energon levels,:: Ratchet commed as Thundercracker turned his head, resisting. 

::Unless one drops into stasis, let them fight. They won't intentionally kill.:: Prowl broke in without remorse as Thundercracker was punched hard in the face, cracking his remaining optic while the blue Seeker grabbed the bottom of Starscream's wing with his remaining arm and dug his fingers in as he pulled to the side.

::How are you so sure?:: Ratchet snapped at the interruption.

::Because they have each promised not to,:: Prowl shrugged a doorwing, though his optics were locked on the battle.

Starscream shrieked as he was pulled off balance on the more injured side and rammed his knee as hard as he could into Thundercracker's wing, and every winged frame watching winced from the _crunch_ that it made and the way Thundercracker's face went completely slack with agony, vocalizer shorting into a silent scream. 

It continued for a few more kliks, the pair scuffling and tearing at each other, but in the end, Starscream was the one back on top and he pried his fingers into Thundercracker's mouth, yanking his lower jaw down while pushing his helm back, and shoved his spike in. He only thrust a few times into the unresisting mouth and intake, but he wasn't fooled. He'd won, but he hadn't dominated his Order. Thundercracker was not at all broken; only honor kept him from continuing to resist. Of course, Starscream didn't feel like he deserved to dominate his Order either, so instead of forcing a transfluid discharge without overloading he pulled out and staggered upright on sheer willpower alone. There was a perverse sense of pride in Prowl that he hadn't made a single objection, not a single cry, and even now did not rush to Starscream.

::Will Starscream be pieced back together enough to face Jazz this orn?:: Prowl asked Ratchet and Hook.

Ratchet didn't hide his groan. ::Let's just see how Jazz looks after Mirage is through with him,:: he said. ::I have a feeling I will never want to see a Seeker frame type again.::

Thundercracker rolled and tried to push up with his remaining arm, but when his thrusters gave out as he tried to stand on them, he settled for sitting as he looked up at Starscream. "I'm still going to call in that debt," he said. 

"I know," Starscream said calmly. "And I am still your Air Commander." 

"...I know," Thundercracker said, as the Constructicons helped to lift him up and move him over to Ratchet and Hook, while Starscream was forced to crawl behind. One of the Rainmakers flew in with what remained of Thundercracker's wing in hand. 

Prowl nodded his acceptance of the delayed information from the medics and stood to collect the datapad from Optimus. "Mirage, Jazz," he called out, summoning the mechs for their fight.

Mirage stood smoothly and walked with all the innate grace of his heritage to the far side of the ring and watched as Jazz joined him. The moment Prowl stepped back, signaling the fight to begin, the pair were in motion.

They went at each other with fists in the first fight that looked like the more traditional, no weapons, all-out brawl that was designed to clear the air for everyone involved. 

It was striking, and even almost arousing to watch the commander and his first officer going all out at each other, and Mirage's anger and frustration with Jazz was evident in every strike and through every line of his frame. 

He'd trusted this mech with his life. 

Trusted this mech to keep him _safe_. 

Trusted him to keep his frame his own. 

And when it had come down to it, Jazz hadn't been able to tell Mirage from a Decepticon.

Compared to Prowl's transgression, this one was far more severe. Jazz _knew_ him, and Jazz didn't notice. It was horrifying how many mistakes Starscream had made and not gotten caught. Prowl, at least, had the excuse of personal weakness. Starscream had manipulated a lovestruck mech who had not, in all honesty, known Mirage well.

Jazz had no such excuses.

Mirage snarled as his pain and sense of betrayal built to a new crescendo. He ducked around Jazz's strike and delivered a precise strike to the mech's shoulder that disabled Jazz's left arm.

He could predict the adjustment before it even came and he was ready when Jazz's pede swung for him, but not for the fist strike to the middle of his chest and he was forced back. Jazz had more mass than he did, but he was faster. He ducked and swung and they caught each other at the same time. Jazz was grim, determined, and knew what his error had been. 

Jazz had no thoughts of giving Mirage an easy win. He would have to _earn_ it.

In many ways this was what the Autobots used these fights for. It wasn't about who won. It wasn't about who was right. It wasn't to prove a point. It was to get out all the negative emotions in the most basic, cathartic method for most of them. Mirage usually hated it, and he'd refused more than one challenge, but when he was this bent out of shape over something, he had to admit it felt good. All the frustration he'd felt since learning the true, full extent of what had happened was coming out with each blow in a full-strength style of fighting that he didn't use often, and many hadn't realized he was capable of. 

It was cathartic in so many ways.

Even the moment he realized that he wouldn't win didn't hamper the sensation of weight being lifted from his spark and processors. He could see Jazz pay for his mistakes on the mech's frame. Every strike he landed was a moment of anger, hurt or grief that dimmed. Every strike Jazz landed was a physical pain that smoothed some of the emotion in a process Mirage didn't understand but accepted.

Yes, Jazz would win, but Mirage wasn't going to make it easy for him, and he'd be in a lot of pain when he did. 

It lasted longer than both of the previous fights, but in the end, Mirage was pushed face-first into the ground, both wrists caught together behind his back, and with the last of his vanishing strength, also went the anger. "I yield," he said. The weight was off his back quickly, and his arms released.

"We good now?" Jazz asked quietly as he offered Mirage a hand up, though they both knew Jazz was only fractionally stronger than Mirage at the moment.

Mirage gave him a lazy smirk as he took the hand, and yanked Jazz down onto his aft on the ground. "We're good," he said, and Jazz leaned in to nuzzle him affectionately. Mirage was too exhausted and in pain to even protest it, and the Decepticons stared at the strange, rapid change that it had created in them and at the other Autobots, who didn't seem to think it so odd.

Hound and Bumblebee both entered the field to help the pair stand, interrupting what many Decepticons, and a few Autobots, had hoped would turn into something far more interesting to watch.

::Neither one is going to be in another match today,:: Ratchet groused. ::Starscream might not be ready tomorrow.::

::Understood,:: Prowl replied and moved to change the schedule before stepping forward to call out the next match.

Cliffjumper and Brawn stepped forward for the match and watching the two minibots beating on each other was almost relaxing compared to the vicious nature of the previous fights. It didn't last long and ended with Brawn sitting on top of Cliffjumper and holding his face into the ground. When they stood, they, too, looked far more relaxed with each other than when they'd entered.

Swindle and Brawl came next, and that match brought about a good deal of chuckling from both sides from the offense--Swindle had conned Brawl out of some of his rations, though he was loudly proclaiming his innocence even as the fight started. He drew even more laughter from both sides as he dodged his lumbering gestaltmate, offering bribes of every shape and sort to escape the beating. 

In the end, it was a grumbling Swindle who left the field with transfluid on his face and a Brawl who was extremely satisfied with the results of the match and smiling lazily about his victory over the smaller con artist.

Many of the following matches were more in that vein, or that of the terror twins. The grievances were small, often petty, and the fights rarely resulted in much more than some dents. All the good humor drained from the gathering when Ironhide stalked forward for the last match of the orn.

Prowl took his place as overseer while Prime stepped forward, and the gravity of this match and what it represented was clear on his face. In some ways, he _had_ betrayed those loyal to him. Even at the cost of peace, it had been a betrayal. He was their _Prime_ , and to give into the demand that a Prime not lead them, not have any real power, went against eons of their culture and heritage. 

Across the ring, Prowl saw Sunstreaker and Sideswipe settle into their places as watchers in Jazz's place in case things went bad. There were precious few mecha who could stop Ironhide in a full-blown rage, and more than a few Autobots were less than confident that Prime would defend himself with any seriousness.

"Why?" Ironhide's snarl came with the first punch, one aimed for Prime's chest plates.

"Peace," Optimus said with a low grunt as his frame absorbed the blow and he raised his arm to block the next. " _Life._ "

"For _nothing!_ " the ancient roared. "That back-stabbing, good for nothing murdering _flit_ gets the planet!"

"No one individual gets the planet!" Prime said. "Everyone does!" He returned one of Ironhide's punches and sent the old warrior stumbling back. "There will be _elections_ , real elections!"

"And you _trust_ him to go through with it!" Ironhide raged as he charged. "Mech's never kept his word in his miserable existence."

Prime lowered down and braced himself to catch Ironhide as they collided, strength pushing against strength. "There will be _regulations, laws_ , safeguards! And in a vorn Jazz becomes acting commander!"

"Jazz?" Ironhide's concentration briefly faltered, allowing Optimus to push him back. "When?"

"Accepted this morning," Optimus rumbled, and there was fondness in the subharmonics as he threw a punch. "You should keep up with the updates, old friend."

"How can you trust anything arranged by _Starscream_ and the mech in his berth?" Ironhide growled his frustration. "He fooled Jazz before, and you've _seen_ how Prowl looks at him now."

More than a few mecha looked at Prowl, but the Praxian didn't so much as twitch.

"I have," Optimus grunted as Ironhide grabbed him in a tackle and dropped his full mass down, dislodging his footing. "I've seen it make better mecha of them both."

"Dead is the only way to make a better mech out of that flit," Ironhide drove a fist into Prime's face, though the battle mask absorbed the bulk of the blow. "You can't improve a sparkless drone by reprogramming it!"

This time Prowl's engine did growl and his doorwings hitched up, but he gave no other reaction to what was arguably the worst insult one Cybertronian could throw at another.

"Have you learned _nothing_ in all these ages!" Optimus shouted at him, his first real display of any anger. "How many do you know that were once no better! How many have you seen _make_ something of themselves!" He grabbed Ironhide around the waist and threw him to the ground as the entire assembly stilled at the first display of anger any of them could recall directed towards an Autobot.

"You've _always_ been too soft!" Ironhide roared as he got to his pedes and launched at his former commander, the mech he'd dedicated the war to protecting. "Can't you _see_ what those two have done? Murdered Megatron, dismantled the Autobots, legally bound you to being a powerless civilian! All for what? So they can frag each other senseless whenever they want?"

Prowl's doorwings jerked up to an angle that made everyone with wings shift away from him and a few Autobots give warning hisses to Ironhide. From where he was watching as he was being repaired, Starscream had gone completely still, optics narrowed, but nothing on his frame even so much as shifted unless it was by Ratchet's doing. 

"Ah can hear 'im, so what!" Ironhide snapped to those warning him of Prowl's anger. "He's bound t' stay outta it!" 

"Wars can be started for love," Optimus said with a hard rev of his engine as he grappled with the furious, battle-hardened warrior. "Why can't they be _ended_ for it?"

"Because that _can't_ be love!" Ironhide pushed harder. "Neither one's capable of it."

Starscream hissed violently and his wings rattled, but the focus of the entire field was in the center of the fighting space. Ratchet didn't even retaliate against the movement. He was too disturbed by the statement to object to his patient's display.

"So what is it to _you?_ " Optimus said, and his voice lowered. "Why do you _care_ so much what they have--love or lust or something else completely--if it's what they've agreed upon and it's _stopped_ the energon spilling?"

"Because what they're doing is _treason_ ," Ironhide struggled to expressed his anger. "Recharging with the enemy. They crossed the line _during war_."

"Yes," Optimus said, quiet as he grabbed Ironhide to hold him still, sad that his friend could be so consumed with this hatred. "It was treason and it was wrong. What would you change? Would you have us back to war?"

"With Megatron gone we could end this the _right_ way," Ironhide growled as he struggled. "No more Cons. They started the war. They don't deserve to be rewarded for that!"

 _Tension_ was starting to build among the Decepticons, even the Seekers who were prowling among them, charged with keeping the cease-fire. 

"Fine, if that's what you want," Optimus growled back. "Say the word and I'll break the cease fire myself, for you, _old friend_. We'll end it the way you think is the _right_ way. But answer me this, what is it worth? More than Decepticons would perish in such an act. So who is worth it? Sideswipe? Beachcomber? Wheeljack? Perceptor? Gears? Huffer? _Tell_ me who is worth revenge!"

Neither one was ignorant of the missile launchers lifting into firing position on Prowl's shoulders, or that the target lock was on both mechs fighting. Prowl did not say a word, but both his swords were drawn, in a blanket statement that if Prime was taken up on his offer, Prime and Ironhide would be the first to go down.

It was enough to draw Ironhide's attention to the current commander of the Autobots. "Yer a dirty traitor."

"Perhaps, but I am the dirty traitor that ended the war without surrendering," Prowl growled back. "If you cannot abide by the peace, I will fix that."

"You would too," Ironhide stopped at the look Prowl gave him, something between insanity and savagery. "You _are_ insane."

"I am what I am. In twenty-five vorns you'll never have to deal with the sparkless traitor drone or the flit that's fragging him again. Wait until then, or I extinguish your spark here and now," Prowl said flatly. "I'm well past caring which you choose."

"This is not your fight," Prime said sharply, tense. "You are violating the non-interference pact." 

Everything seemed frozen and wavering; no one dared to move, or even x-vent. 

"I have not interfered, yet. Ironhide addressed me," Prowl replied, coldly. "I am merely pointing out the price if Ironhide should take you up on your offer. If I had _interfered_ neither of you would still be functioning."

Prime nodded once, curtly, before looking back down at Ironhide. "It's your choice," he said. "Decimate the survivors of our race, your Prime, your friends, in order to have revenge, or take it all out on me, and then _let it go._ "

Ironhide trembled in impotent rage, then screamed as he launched at his Prime. All around them mecha relaxed, relieved to have gotten past that point. When Prowl stood his weapons down the tension drained the rest of the way.

There would be no more death today.


	11. Officer Battles, Round 2

"All right, you can recharge here, or with Prowl _if_ you can manage to be in the same berth and not engage in any energetic activities." Ratchet glared at his most badly damaged patient. Thundercracker had been worse off, but he'd insisted on Hook. Ratchet hadn't been thrilled about that, but he'd given in, and Hook was comming him regular updates. He was doing better than Ratchet had expected. 

"Prowl doesn't have quarters," Starscream said, giving the medic a strange look.

"He actually does, and it even has a real double berth in it." Ratchet smirked at knowing something about Prowl that Starscream didn't. "But if you want to stay here, just be quiet about it."

"If you attempt to keep me here, I will create the _loudest_ disturbance you have ever heard," Starscream promised him as he got off the berth a bit too fast, and then winced from the stretching on the fresh welds.

"You underestimate what some of the locals are capable of," Ratchet said dryly. "Come back in eight joors, and _rest_."

Starscream waved a hand at him in vague agreement to the orders before pinging the local datanet and finding it responsive. It gave him the location of Prowl's quarters, a different room than he'd been assigned not long ago. 

Cocking his head with a bit of a smirk for the potential reasons for the change, Starscream headed that way, watching the datanet as it fed him information about what was behind each door. He remembered most of it, but one door had never been significant to him before and when he heard the passionate clanging and moaning coming from behind it he just _had_ to stop and find out. 

Oh. _Well_ then, wasn't _that_ interesting. 

He smirked and paused for a few kliks to listen to the various grunts and groans and shouts before carrying on. All parties involved were having a _very_ good time. 

"Have they been lovers long, or is that a new development?" he asked curiously upon slipping into Prowl's new quarters and looking around.

"Prime and Ironhide?" Prowl asked as he shut down the small remote workstation to greet his lover. "They aren't lovers. That is merely working through Ironhide's remaining anger. Or some of it at least."

"Could have fooled me," Starscream said. "It sounds as though they've successfully worked through it."

"Actually no," Prowl stepped up to ghost his hands along Starscream's freshly repaired wings. "If they had, they would be quiet."

Starscream hummed and pressed into it, optics dimming. "So why don't you all just do that instead of your fighting tournament?"

"Interfacing is an intimacy for Autobots, not a power play. Something meant for willing partners," Prowl said quietly as he continued to stroke the wide wings. "Not every mech can work it out in the berth."

"Pity," Starscream sighed. "I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous."

"Then lay down together?" Prowl suggested with a nod towards the berth. "I can still stroke your wings until you melt into recharge."

Starscream leaned in to nip at him. "You could probably stroke my wings until I make you forget to take it easy with me..."

A shiver passed down Prowl's frame as his vents hitched. "That wouldn't be very caring of me to allow."

"Mhmm, and...?" Starscream purred with another nip, hands going to Prowl's waist as he slowly walked the Praxian backwards. "Who's gonna know except me?"

"Ratchet," Prowl groaned as he kissed back with the first stirrings of passion before stamping it down. "He always knows. Starscream. I will clean and rub your wings. No more."

Starscream pouted at him as his fingers danced over Prowl's armor and couldn't help a bit of surprise when nothing happened. He knew how to bring this frame to a screaming overload in a matter of kliks, and he was getting _nothing_.

"Starscream," Prowl's tone was the kind of patient one had with a young sparkling. "If you do not behave I will go back to my office and leave you to recharge alone."

Starscream's wings twitched up indignantly as he stared at his lover. "Are you _serious?_ " he asked, with a matching kind of petulance.

"Yes," Prowl said calmly. "I will not risk your health for a few moments of pleasure."

Starscream glared at him, then relaxed and tried one more seductive tilt to his wings with a low purr as he traced his fingers down the front of Prowl's thighs. 

_Nothing_. 

"Very well," Prowl said calmly, as he extracted himself from the Seeker and walked towards the door. 

"Wait," Starscream said, and he sounded sulky. "Stay. Wing rubs and recharge."

_There._

Starscream knew he saw it. It was tiny, nearly as difficult as reading Soundwave, but it was there. A wiggle of relief in Prowl's doorwings, then a more visible sweep of approval as Prowl turned and sat down on the berth.

"Lay on your front, if it doesn't ache," Prowl smiled slightly.

"All of me aches," Starscream said dryly as he glided over to the berth and climbed on, settling gingerly onto his front. Hurting all over was nothing new, though he had to admit Ratchet had a certain finesse that made the repair work feel less brutal, and he didn't feel nearly as bad as he should right now for the beating he'd taken. 

He rested his helm in his arms and let his wings relax. "So you got quarters," he said. "I mean, quarters that aren't filled with mountain."

"I wanted somewhere to spend time with you on the Ark that wasn't in my office," Prowl said as he settled over Starscream's hips without putting any weight on them and began to gently rub sweeps and circles across the wide surfaces. "Somewhere I could do this, and where we could enjoy each other when we're both in condition for it."

Starscream gave a deeply relaxed hum. "How did today go, by your standards?"

"Unbelievably violent and serious. It's rare for any of the challenges to be more serious than Brawl and Swindle's. This cycle will have many, and as I'm sure you heard, at least one that threatened to end the peace," Prowl's tone didn't hide his regret at that, and he did not hide how disturbed he was by it and his own choices from his field. "A great deal of anger has been generated in the last metacycle."

"Glad it wasn't just me thinking so," Starscream said. "Upcoming orns will be just as bad."

"I do not believe any of the upcoming matches will have quite the same ability to end in an all-out slaughter," Prowl murmured, much of his focus still on his hands and easing his lover into recharge. "Though for violence, only your match against Jazz has any likely potential for being as brutal as the one against Thundercracker. I'm uncertain just how angry he is with you, or all the reasons."

"You were, hmm, willing to challenge him over it," Starscream sighed contentedly. "And we'll see what Mirage wants to get out on me."

"With as long as you spent with his processors, I think you have a solid idea of what he wants," Prowl said quietly as his fingers worked the stiff, fresh cabling in Starscream's wing joints.

There was a long pause, partially taken up by the low-level pleasure beginning to radiate from Starscream's wings. "Why are you angry with me?"

Prowl stilled, then resumed his task before speaking. "It was the most effective way of getting the information out without seeming like I was trying to make an excuse for something that was legally treason. You caused me a great deal of emotional pain. It did exactly what you wanted it to do when you began. I _hurt_. Mirage _hurt_. If you hadn't killed Megatron, it would have given the Decepticons a significant advantage over the next vorn. I'm still very angry about parts of the fallout."

Starscream x-vented and nodded. "Nothing went as planned. Hopefully you prefer this alternative to what was intended." 

"That's why I did not kill you when I knew I should have," Prowl murmured, and that admission hurt too. "Yes, I prefer this to what should have happened. Despite what you might think, I do have limits on what I would do for the mission, or even to end the war."

"At least you seem to want survivors," Starscream said, thinking of Ironhide. "Better than a massacre." His wings twitched briefly with an irritation that would have been much stronger without Prowl's massage.

"I know. Ironhide and I have often disagreed, occasionally violently, over just what acceptable losses mean. Over the course of the war our stances have switched. The fewer mecha that exist the less I have been willing to let many extinguish for a mission. As he witnessed more and more of his trainees and loved ones extinguish, the less he felt the war would be won unless there was no opposition left." Prowl actually smiled slightly, but Starscream didn't see it. "The war has changed us all too much to fully understand. I'm still surprised you do not hate me for siding with Prime's vision of the future."

"Nn. I trust Soundwave to help mitigate it," Starscream said. "And there will always be the possibility of a peaceful Vosian secession, if the planet can be recovered."

Prowl chuckled. "He's done little to mitigate it. It seems he quite likes the government I built in the dull joors." He leaned forward to kiss the back of Starscream's neck. "Yes, though that will be long after it is no longer our concern."

Starscream purred. "I liked your design too, if you remember..." He arched a little, hips tilting up. "Are you _sure_ you can't just ... really quickly..."

"No," Prowl said firmly. "I will schedule a bit of extra time off when Ratchet clears you from medical after all the challenges and we can properly enjoy it." His tone softened. "For now, enjoy the fact that I'll be here while you recharge."

"Hm." Starscream relaxed back down and took a klik to pout, but Prowl's fingers had him purring again. "I look forward to when that won't be a rarity." 

"As do I," Prowl purred at the thought. "Within the vorn, we should be able to live together."

Starscream nodded as his optics flickered off, and the full brunt of the self-repair seemed to creep in all at once. "At least lay down with me," he murmured, and held one arm out. "Under my wing."

"Happily," Prowl moved to tuck himself into the offered spot. He felt he should be the protector with how damaged Starscream was, but if it made his lover feel better, he wasn't going to argue the point. It felt far too good to be wanted like this, as a _mech_ , and not as a data cruncher with no other value.

* * *

It took another full orn before Ratchet was willing to pass Starscream off as capable of participating in another match and the factions were gathered again for the next rounds. 

Very few matches remained, but they were all high profile, and the updated schedule was again pinged to all before Prowl and Jazz stepped into the field. Prime stood by to officiate, with two of the Rainmakers and both twins stationed around to step in should the match become too violent. No one was under the impression that breaking the two apart would be easy.

To many mecha's surprise, Prowl moved first, a fast, low strike intended to come under Jazz's engine block.

Jazz dropped down, legs swinging out for Prowl's ankles. His face was grimly determined, and there was no question that he was in this to settle some of his own frustration with Prowl and the way everything had gone. As disturbing as it was for many Autobots to watch, they could see what the Decepticons couldn't. As serious and brutal as this fight was going to be, as frustrated and angry as both officers were, neither was out to do critical damage.

Jazz's pede made contact, almost to his surprise, but it didn't knock his opponent off balance as hoped. Prowl simply lifted one pede to step over the strike and allowed Jazz's force to dissipate against the one that bore no weight on it. 

At this range they both allowed their fields to unfurl, expressing everything that had built up since it had come to light that Starscream had been in control of Mirage's frame. Anger, betrayal, frustration, denial, several more flavors of betrayal ... the emotions hit nearly as hard as fists did.

The punches rocked them back and forth as they danced around each other, pedes light and fast, Jazz's vicious, underhanded style a good match for all of Prowl's formidable training, though the SpecOps commander stayed solidly in the defense. 

"You were supposed to be on _my_ side," Jazz bit out as he brought his arm up to block a solid blow. " _Not_ his."

"I have _never_ been on 'your side.'" Prowl snarled back as he slammed a knee into Jazz's hip. "My purpose has _always_ been to end the war without surrendering. You were being selfish and short-sighted to value an agent's chastity over the good of our _race_."

"Your purpose was to end the war by _winning!_ " Jazz said. "We had a _plan_ , it was _good_ , and you went behind my back!"

"Circumstances changed," Prowl punched him hard and took a blow to the chest without caring. "You refused to listen. You argued _against_ peace to Prime because one of the enemy hurt your agent. That made you the enemy."

"Not _just_ because," Jazz growled as they grabbed at each other's shoulders and tried to throw the other to the ground. "They were still the enemy!" Prowl managed to pin him down and Jazz's knee shot up into his abdomen. "And maybe I was wrong, but you shut me out!"

"You shut yourself out," Prowl grunted as he was pushed off his opponent and they launched to grapple again. "If you can never view another as something other than 'the enemy' they will never be anything other than the enemy. I looked beyond being hurt to a future that _didn't_ begin with slaughtering half the survivors when peace was offered. You didn't have anything to argue against peace with so you attacked my emotional stability _in front of our commander_ when it was your own that was impairing your judgment."

Jazz growled and didn't answer with anything more than further punches as he made himself a difficult target as possible for Prowl to work out his frustration on. He knew he'd been wrong in that, and in opposing the peace. He also knew that as well as Prowl held it together, the mech was nowhere near clear of his anger.

A hard punch shattered Jazz's visor on one side before they went to grappling again. Suddenly Prowl was right in his faceplates. "Why is it so wrong for me to have _something_ besides work? Why don't I deserve a little enjoyment in existence?"

"No one ever said you didn't!" Jazz protested with a growl. "You were free to do what you wanted and you never did _anything_ until him, we weren't holding you hostage in your office!"

"Yes, because _he_ was the first to look at me and see something other than a machine, to see some _one_ worth spending time and effort to know," Prowl snarled. "You say I'm free to be with who I wish, right up to the point you find out that who I want is someone you don't approve of."

"I don't _care_ anymore," Jazz said. "I cared when I thought it was going to hurt the Autobots, but you frag who you want to now! How many times did I offer! Maybe all we saw was a machine but that's all you acted like!"

"You offered a frag, not what I _want_ ," Prowl snarled back. "Can't you understand the difference?"

"We were at _war!_ " Jazz said. "What more _is_ there?"

Prowl's field went absolutely insane for a brief moment, a moment more telling that he ever intended it to be. "What more?" Prowl raged at him. "How about _caring_ about who you're with? How about wanting their _company?_ Who knows, maybe I'm broken that I want a _relationship_ that's as good out of the berth as in it. I want a _friend_."

"Friends _die!_ " Jazz shouted. "Partners _die_ , mates _die!_ " He slammed his fist as hard as he could into Prowl's helm, sending the mech stumbling to the ground. "It's the present moment and nothing more!"

"We _all_ die!" Prowl screamed and struck back with a hard kick. "I can't exist in the moment. Why can't you understand that? I'm not that simple. I _cannot_ exist in the now. That was _taken_ from me by the tac-net I'm valued for."

"Well it--wasn't--taken from the rest of us!" Jazz said as he went down and lunged over Prowl, striking with everything he had. Prowl hit back, his superior martial arts training hampered by his emotional state and Jazz took advantage of it.

Prowl caught Jazz's hands in another pushing match and glared out of a cracked optic lens. "I never punished you for what you are. You have punished me for what I am. I do not _trust_ you anymore."

Jazz didn't answer as he continued to beat all his frustration--with Prowl, Prime, _himself_ , the way things were--into the fight. He knew Prowl was doing the same, with words as much as his frame, and that was Prowl's way. The mech had to intellectualize fragging _everything_ and demand answers even when there weren't any to be given.

As he felt himself begin to lose ground, Jazz quietly hoped that this really would put the conflict, and Prowl's sense of being persecuted, to rest. He couldn't help but doubt, but he stilled hoped.

He still fought with as much viciousness as any frontliner, and so did Prowl, and the planet's solar cycles moved by around them as they beat each other into exhaustion. 

In the end, Jazz found himself pinned face-down, Prowl's knee to his back, the mech's engines revving above him as he tried to struggle out of it, but found himself completely trapped. "Yield," he said, slumping forward, relieved. He felt relief above him, and then Prowl moved to stand, shaky but determined, and offered a hand up.

Jazz managed to get himself turned over as he accepted it and together, they struggled up. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, leaning in close to rest their helms together, almost needing Prowl's frame to stay upright, as much as Prowl was using him for the same. "For what we did to you."

"Thank you, for helping the peace, Protector of Cybertron," Prowl murmured back, his field an attempt to express the relief it was.

They helped each other off the field, the Decepticons staring with some wonder at the way two mecha who'd looked like they would rather kill each other than look at each other could be suddenly so calm together. 

Prime waited until they were under Ratchet's care before looking back out. "Mirage and Starscream." 

The Seeker flicked his wings as he walked to the middle opposite the spy and they regarded each other. 

"As per the agreements of this engagement, Starscream will resist any kind of levitation or flight, and Mirage will disable his visual systems," Prime said, and waited until Perceptor had confirmed that both Mirage's optics and Starscream's thrusters were offline before nodding and stepping back to indicate that the fight would begin.

"Why?" Mirage asked as they circled each other, gauging initial tactics.

"Why'd I take your seal?" Starscream asked, smirking. "Why do you think I did?"

"Why go beyond your mission?" Mirage clarified. "Why fall in love with your target, once you'd chosen to go after him?"

"I think that's between Prowl and myself, don't you?" Starscream asked with false sweetness.

"Not when it involved my frame," Mirage hissed and suddenly moved with the kind of speed that Starscream still managed to be surprised by.

"Because he wasn't what I thought," Starscream growled, and brought his arm up to block the blow. "Because you, _all of you_ ," and there was no mistaking that he meant all of the Autobots, "Were using him!" He dodged and still had to block another blow, one that sent him skidding back as the grounder's mass slammed into him. Even so, it wasn't lost on Starscream that his statement seemed to have garnered uneasy looks towards Prowl, especially since Prowl had said much the same.

"You _took things_ from me," Mirage snarled as he threw a hard kick that crunched into Starscream's left wing and reminded the Seeker that this mech had beaten _Prowl_ not too long ago. "Things I could have had you killed for if the world was still right!"

"Fortunately saner processors make the rules now," Starscream sneered at him and made sure it showed in his field. "Something else you can thank Prowl for." He threw a hard punch that Mirage ducked. "At least _he_ saw the hypocrisy of such rights."

"He saw the hypocrisy of _personal freedom_ for your own frame, and the ability to punish those who would abuse it?" Mirage almost shrieked as he whirled, all of his extraordinary high-tuned senses helping him dodge Starscream's knee from connecting with his abdomen, but he was caught by the next kick that push a dent in his lighter plating. "How did _you_ feel when you found out!"

"He saw the hypocrisy of one class being allowed to murder with impunity over something as small as a seal," Starscream hissed, his wings flaring high in rage. "What makes _your seal_ more valuable than _my life?_ "

" _Your_ decision to break it when it wasn't yours to break!" Mirage hissed back. "I know _you_ don't care about what's inside you but some of us still have standards!"

"Doesn't make rape, the _highest_ crime of interfacing, a capital offense!" Starscream shot back. "You _still_ think you're better than the rest of us, just because you got lucky. No wonder your own side doesn't trust you."

"I _know_ I'm better than the rest of you," Mirage said, and there was pride in his voice. "Part of what make me who I am is knowing I'm better than the rest of you! And maybe I know it isn't right, or fair, or even legal anymore, but it will _never_ change, so long as I exist." 

"All the more reason the universe will be better off when you don't exist anymore," Starscream spat, though it was as much for show as anything. The twitch of his wings betrayed how surprised he was at the admission hidden in Mirage's words.

"Maybe so," Mirage said calmly as he ducked and wove. "But I think it will be just as better off without _you_ in it, and maybe even what's left of our race."

"You should have acted on that thought when you had the chance," Starscream shot back, frustrated at how little losing his vision was hampering the spy. "Too late now."

" _Indeed,_ " Mirage growled. "At least I have the satisfaction of knowing that you aren't without your _own_ memories of having your frame be used. _Thoroughly plowed_ was how I heard it described."

Starscream snarled, his fury slamming into Mirage with enough force to knock the mech slightly off balance. "Just goes to show I'm a better mech than _he_ was."

"And tell me what you _did_ about it," Mirage shot back at him. "Go on, tell _everyone_ what you did about it!" 

"I tore his spark out so he'd stop feeding me that poison that kept me sedated," Starscream snorted and tried to trip the spy as they moved. "You know exactly how nasty that gunk is."

Mirage's field turned cold, deadly. " _You killed him,_ " he said, and then the speed of his attacks nearly doubled as he came down on Starscream with a savageness that no one had ever seen in the spy. It signaled the end of the talking and the beginning of the beating, but unlike every prior match that featured intense savagery, neither one was trying to help the other and it showed.

Their limitations helped match them, but Mirage had anger on his side, and a need to expel something as base as a desire for revenge, and as the joors dragged on, he slowly came out on top. 

It went until the end of the orn and a little beyond, but Mirage finally pinned Starscream down and the Seeker gave a furious hiss, but bowed his head. "Yield," he snarled. 

Bumblebee came forward to help Mirage stand, and Starscream found himself surprised by an uncertain but not angry field there when the pair left. He looked up through a badly damaged but marginally functional optic to take in the blue-gray Seeker offering to help him stand.

He recognized this one. The crazy Autobot Seeker. Not that they weren't all crazy, but this one had a reputation. "What're you doing," he mumbled as he accepted, recalling that this Seeker had been around more than he should have been.

"Making peace of sorts," Dogfight shrugged his wings as he got Starscream on his pedes. "Hook or Ratchet?"

"Hook," Starscream said. He wasn't knocked up any worse than what Megatron had tended to do, and he wanted the comfort of the familiar right now.

The Autobot Seeker shifted to protect Starscream's worse-damaged wing with his own and helped the mech hobble over to the Decepticon medic.

Starscream slumped down gratefully and Hook just clicked irritably at him before setting into his work. Dogfight hovered, and Hook glanced up. "Gonna just camp out right there?" he asked, annoyed.

"Yes," the lonely Action replied, far too accustomed to Ratchet to be phased by Hook.

"Fine but if you get in the way you're going," Hook grumbled, and quickly lost himself in the work.

* * *

The fight with Mirage left Starscream sore, but not nearly as badly damaged as he had been by Thundercracker, and it only took the medics an orn to get him, Prowl and Jazz in fighting shape again. This fight was one Starscream was actually looking forward to watching too. The two TICs, both espionage specialists but of very different types, and with fun rules too. No matter who won, he was looking forward to watching the loser get it in the face. He was sure most of the Decepticons were, too, though he had his doubts about some of the Autobots. 

At least Jazz seemed enthusiastic about the idea, and he was grinning hugely as he stepped into the ring, looking much more like his usual self than he had over the last metacycle. 

"Ready ta lose, Sounders?" he drawled.

"Negative. Jazz: will loose." Soundwave countered as he settled his strong frame and fired the powerful sonic gun on his shoulder.

Jazz dove and rolled away from it as Trailbreaker's force field snapped up around them to absorb the blast before it could strike anyone in the audience, but the resulting shockwave still slammed into Jazz before he was fully upright again and made him stumble. He knew that Soundwave must have been hit by the rebound as well, but the mech didn't seem to notice.

He countered with a low, sonic pulse from his own speakers and watched with some satisfaction as it at least got the Decepticon to look unsteady, then somersaulted forward into his alt mode and revved his engines, rocketing forward. Soundwave dove out of the way but Jazz transformed mid-air, grabbed him, and brought him down into a scuffle that was far more his style of fight. He knew this mech, knew his specs, and while Soundwave had far greater mass and strength, Jazz knew how to fight in a way that was neither methodical nor strength-based.

The first blow that Soundwave did land knocked him back though, and forced Jazz to recalibrate his tactics.

Soundwave, apparently, knew more than a little bit about his specs, too. It was a little insulting, if not an outright surprise. 

The balance of the fight shifted back and forth as both parties readjusted to the other's tactics, but in the end, it was Jazz who got the upper hand and tricked the spy master with a calculated fake, and then attack, wrestling him down to the ground and pinning him where the mech's greater strength and mass didn't help him.

"Soundwave: yields."

"Great," Jazz said, grinning. He mimicked what he'd seen the other winning Decepticons do and got up on his pedes, pulling Soundwave roughly up to his knees while his spike pressurized. The Decepticon did nothing to resist, though there was a fractional hesitation before the battle mask split down the middle and slid open to reveal that it wasn't the simple kind that Optimus and most others sported, but a far more sturdy model with overlapping plates. The mouth it concealed parted, ready to be shoved into.

Jazz hesitated just as long as Soundwave had before yanking the unresisting helm to his pelvis as he pushed forward, burying himself. The Decepticons hadn't treated this as an act of love or even affection, or even really pleasure, but almost a mandatory, rote sequence of movements that were required before a match could be truly over. Overload didn't seem to be necessary, but almost all of them had, and so Jazz gave a short, low grunt as he thrust in and out, focusing on the physical sensations to build his charge. It wasn't that much unlike when he was in the berth with someone he barely knew, or didn't like but needed the attention. Though this time it was for Jazz to get off, rather than the one he was with.

This mech had foiled his plans, captured his agents, hacked their memories and overall made Jazz's life annoying as all Pit, and so it was with great satisfaction to pull out at the last moment and shoot transfluid onto the host's face. The flash of surprise across Soundwave's field that brightened his visor was even more satisfying. He had a sneaking suspicion that it had earned him a few points among most Decepticons as well.

When the last burst of transfluid landed, Soundwave stood and walked back to his faction. He wiped his face once and closed his battle mask.

"Soundwave: looks forward to next challenge," he said once he was fully settled. 

Jazz lifted his fingers in a casual salute and headed back to the Autobots, grinning at the stares that many of them were giving him. Still, deep down, he knew that if others had done exactly what he had, Mirage, Prowl and Sunstreaker in particular, they would have been denounced as traitors and Decepticons, while this would only add to his own mystic and improve his standing as a leader who could walk both sides of the cultural divide without turning on his own. It was something he had always known, not all mecha were social equals, but after the events of the past few orns, after hearing what Prowl and Starscream had said, it was more disturbing that he wanted it to be.

Once more Optimus stepped forward to take the primary referee post from Prowl as the Praxian stepped into the circle and Starscream joined him. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shifted into position, ready to pull the pair apart if needed, and the Rainmakers did as well. Even without all the emotional violence of the past few orns from each of the challengers, fights between volatile lovers were never to be taken too lightly.

The Seeker was tense and visibly on edge as he faced his challenger, fully prepared to let Prowl work out whatever lingering hostility he might still have. He was grateful, though, for the recharge cycles that Prowl had spent with him in the last few orns. It told him that whatever was coming, Prowl wasn't nearly as angry as Thundercracker was. Prowl's explanation gave him hope for a limited beating as well. If the mech already had most of what he wanted, not much else would be coming.

Even ready, it was still a shock at how fast Prowl could move when he wanted to. Instinct had him jumping back and into the air, but not before Prowl could grab his ankle and pull him back down, getting a strike in right across his neck. Starscream grabbed his arm and yanked, aiming his fist for his helm as he fired his thrusters and used them to get more force behind the hit. It was enough of an impact to knock Prowl completely off balance and free the Seeker, if only briefly.

Not a word was exchanged between them as Starscream tried to balance a fight that was by agreement hand to hand with a natural fighting style that was anything but. He could dodge and avoid Prowl easily by staying in the air, but to advance the conflict he had to come within range.

It ate slag, big time.

He was not built for the ground, he was not _strong_ on the ground, and against someone as highly trained as Prowl was in this style of fighting, his choices were to hit like crazy and hope to last long enough to not look weak, while not staying in the air for long enough to look like a coward. 

Though in the choice between coward and weak, he was far more used to coward and part of him would have preferred to just fly away and avoid the whole thing. 

But he couldn't, slag it all to Pit. 

And so he stayed on the ground and did his best against his lover, and hoped it was enough. When his sixth strike landed it sank in that Prowl was letting him look good enough. The grounder hit hard, moved fast and made it no doubt that he was out to make Starscream pay, but at the same time not all of the strikes Starscream landed really should have.

The silence as they fought felt heavy and the omnipresent gazes of almost every surviving Cybertronian even more so. It dragged on, and very slowly, Prowl's speed increased, his technique sharpened, his offensive presses became more insistent. More and more, Starscream was being forced into a clumsy defense as he tried to resist lifting off the ground too many times. He wasn't going to win. He'd known that going in. It had it all the more difficult to subdue his instinct to escape.

Even when Prowl pulled him down for the last time, slammed him face-down in the dirt, jammed a knee in his back and dug a thumb into that small spot where one could remove helm from frame with minimal force, Starscream silently thanked his lover for sparing both wings and thrusters.

He took one more moment to put up a show of trying to struggle out of the pin, but the grip got tighter and Prowl's engine gave a low warning growl. 

And then an awful, frozen silence as everyone waited. 

" _Yield,_ " Starscream said.

The thumb threatening to decapitate him moved first, then Prowl shifted his mass to get off his lover without doing any more damage and offered a hand up. His field was smooth and calm, settled more than it had been since Starscream had first teeked him after getting his frame back. He doubted it was over, but the worst of it was. He hoped.

He accepted, rising up to his knees, and tilted his head back, trying not to cringe as he waited. He really wasn't sure what to make of the almost playful amusement in his lover's field. It didn't feel _right_. The hand that guided his chin forward was gentle about it, but there was no mistaking that force could be applied. Not that Starscream had any intention of resisting.

Prowl's spike slid into view, pressurizing in a way that signaled an override command rather than arousal. There was a moment where Starscream thought Prowl might just back out of the deal, and then his noseplate was pressed up against Prowl's plating just above the spike housing in a sudden thrust combined with a pull on Starscream's helm.

He made a startled, muffled sound as his hands shot up to Prowl's hips, instinct wanting him to _push_ away, but he managed to freeze there, and swallow once, optics lifting up.

::Relax your intake,:: Prowl suggested as he pulled them apart and drove forward again, his optics dimming as he focused on something other than where they were.

Starscream scowled at him as much as he could but tried to comply. It went against everything he'd ever done--the point was to _dominate_ a _resisting_ mecha--but he tried. At least he knew none of his fellow Decepticons could hear the suggestion; Prowl seemed to understand that any hint he was making it easier for Starscream would not be well looked upon.

The next thrust brought a low moan, then another. Starscream knew Prowl well enough to recognize that he didn't get off this easily, not even when there was real passion behind it. He couldn't quite work out what Prowl thought the point of the display was, but he had to give him some credit for putting on a good show. Even on the receiving end he knew it looked good to anyone more than a couple paces away.

Prowl's engine gave a deep roar, a distinct counterpoint to the soft sigh from his vocalizer, and then Starscream was focused on swallowing the transfluid so he wouldn't have to wear as much of it.

His fingers tightened in objection, but now mostly in show for the others watching rather than a true desire to get away. His field spiked with brief moments of protest and very slowly, gradually, settled once Prowl's forced overload had finished and the grounder pulled his spike out, leaving only a small line down Starscream's chin.

Black and white armor ruffled and settled as Prowl retracted his spike as neatly as any Decepticon before he helped Starscream to his pedes and over to Ratchet, who was finishing the repairs on Jazz.

"Goin' ta be up for a fight, or need ta recharge first?" Jazz grinned at him with a manic kind of excitement that earned him a scowl from Prowl.

Starscream flicked his wings in arrogant dismissal as he wiped his chin. "Of _course_ I'm ready," he said. "I'd be ready to fight you _any_ time."

"Oh, this is going to be _good_ ," Jazz grinned even more.

"I'll be the judge of that," Ratchet snapped at them both. "No one fights until I clear them."

"Ratchet, I know exactly what damage I did. It looks worse than it is," Prowl said evenly. "He should be repaired within two groons."

" _I_ suggest you spend that time readying yourself," Starscream said, waving a dismissive hand at Jazz. 

Jazz scoffed. "Why don't you get ready to have another spike down your intake." 

Starscream smirked as he settled down and held his arm out for Ratchet. "Why don't you get ready for your first?"

The medic rolled his optics and huffed, but his field held amusement too. "Prowl, you owe me for bringing this glitch into my collective."

"You are the one who accepted him," Prowl replied smoothly, causing Jazz to snicker. "I made no such demand."

"You brought a badly damaged mech to my medbay and told me to repair him. What do you call that?"

"An order to anyone with fully intact medic coding. However you have operated under battlefield medic coding for a long time. You were no more obligated to repair him than I was."

Ratchet muttered something that sounded like a curse in ten languages as he set in to work on Starscream, unable to refute the claim. 

Jazz smirked at him for a bit longer before he headed back to the rest of the Autobots to wait for Starscream's repairs. The Seeker watched him go with no small amount of trepidation. He knew he didn't stand any chance, Jazz blind or not, not with how well he'd done against Mirage, and considering how Mirage had done against Jazz...

Well, Jazz was the commander for a reason.

Prowl's field flickered against his, a caress and offer all in one, though the Praxian remained silent.

Starscream waved a hand and flicked his wings in a _No thanks._

He waited silently until Ratchet had finished, and then stood and faced Jazz in the arena. 

"Come out to play finally?" Jazz asked with a deceptively easy grin.

"We'll see how well you do," Starscream flicked his wings in a deliberate dismissal. "Now off with the optics."

"Yeah yeah," Jazz said, and held still while Hook came forward to confirm that the black visor wasn't a deception. "Thrusters down, mech."

"They're off," Ratchet called out. "Now get your glitched processors in order and get this round of ultimate stupidity _done with_."

"Begin," Prowl ordered the contest to start.

Jazz's grin turned savage as he cocked his head, listening. "You know what I'd do if I was allowed?"

"Tear my spark out and gift it to your agent?" Starscream focused on his opponent as they began to circle. 

" _Oh_ yes, and so much more," Jazz purred. "You hurt one of _mine_ , you wouldn't get an easy deactivation."

"Pity Prowl's in your way," Starscream smirked and broke the pattern. He knew he couldn't sneak up on the saboteur, he wasn't built to run quiet like they were, but he could make Jazz work for the damage he caused.

Jazz's arm was up immediately and his leg swung out to kick for Starscream's abdomen. "You have _no idea_ ," he growled, and then all but batted away Starscream's blocking arm and delivered a series of rapid-fire punches right to his cockpit, first cracking and then shattering the glass.

It hurt. It _burned_. It was going to ache for a couple orns after repairs, even with Ratchet's skill, but Starscream didn't even grunt. It wasn't going to give the mech the satisfaction of his pain. "Then why not be rid of him?"

"Huh-uh," Jazz said, and struck out for the wiring underneath. "'S about _your_ problems and how no one seems to _care_ about what you _did_. I'm at least going to make you _hurt_ for it."

"I killed Megatron," Starscream hissed and swung a leg out to strip the blind mech. "I ended the war. That mission gave me a _reason_ for peace."

He caught Jazz around the neck and sent him down, but damned if the mech didn't act like he was made out of rubber the way he rolled with it and was right back up on his pedes, jumping and grabbing for Starscream's chest again. "Only _after_ you decided there was something you wanted to save for your _self_ on the other side!" he hissed. "You would have annihilated us without a second thought before that!"

"And you still want to annihilate _us_ ," Starscream snarled back with a hard punch to the face that created a spider web of damage on the surprisingly hard visor. "You just haven't found a reason to be a better mech and put the past behind you."

"Least I wouldn't be a coward about it!" Jazz shot back as his fingers found Starscream's neck, dug in, and _yanked_. "You'd know the entire time it was _me_ stripping you and those you love down to the wires, you'd never find me using someone _else_ to help you hurt someone you care about!" With the words, his attack shifted to a new level of savageness and determination to make Starscream _hurt_.

This Starscream understood, intimately well. This was Megatron, but with checks. This mech wanted him to fight back, just as Megatron did. He wanted to win against the best his opponent could give. So Starscream gave it to him. A speaker was crushed and thrown to the side. In retaliation a wing was punched through and twisted sideways until Starscream couldn't hold the scream in.

The damage went on and Jazz only grew more vicious as he slowly let himself go. The insults and words were nothing compared to fighting against this Pit monster, and part of him wondered if Jazz wasn't going to take the opportunity to _actually_ finish him off and there was a very real sense of urgency as he fought.

But in the end, when he was bleeding, his wings stripped down to their internals, his remaining shoulder vent cracked and broken, frame mangled, and he found himself slammed into a pin _on his back_ \--he realized that Jazz wasn't going to kill him. 

"Get _off!_ " he shrieked, pushing and squirming to dislodge the grounder.

"Frag you," Jazz snarled, and he looked little better off than Starscream. He grabbed the Seeker's helm in claws and forced it up to his pelvis as his spike extended.

Starscream bared his denta but didn't fight. He'd be knocked offline by another hit. Resist, yes. Fight, no. Jazz would feel what Megatron had and no more. Starscream was beaten, not broken.

" _Say it,_ " Jazz growled. "Say it and swallow." 

Starscream hissed at him. " _Yield._ "

The spike pushed at his mouth, demanding, and he let it in, then choked as it slammed down his intake. Short, rough thrusts hit the back and Jazz held his helm in place as he hunched over, moving in quick bursts. Starscream held frozen in place, fingers digging into the earth below, frame rigid. 

When Jazz gave a low grunt and pulled out he tried to turn his face away but claws held him in place as transfluid shot out in bursts, coating his mouth, his nose, his optics. From the teek, he knew it was an actual overload, not the forced kind that Prowl had used.

"You glitches done?" Ratchet snarled at them.

"It is done," Prowl voice was calm. "Are there any challenges now that the first set is complete?"

Hound came out to help Jazz to Ratchet and Starscream forced himself to his pedes. Blearily he focused on Hook and stumbled towards the Decepticon medic. Once again he felt Dogfight there and he snarled at the other Seeker while wiping at his face, smearing the transfluid with energon more than he managed to clean anything. Dogfight backed away quickly but stayed close enough in case of trouble, looking like a guard. 

Silence answered Prowl's question.

"Then all are dismissed to their regular duties," Prowl's voice carried over the gathering. ::Comm me when you are open to spend some time together?:: he pinged Starscream. It was private, though not scrambled well enough to evade any of those with advanced comm systems.

Starscream sent a short ping back that was agreement, but barely so, too irritable and embarrassed to fully answer. 

It was enough, and Prowl let him be.

* * *

It took orns before Starscream felt both repaired enough and calm enough to call on Prowl. Initially, he'd intended to ask Prowl to the Nemesis, wanting to avoid the Autobots, but at the last moment decided to go there instead and walked through the halls with his helm and wings held high. He'd been beaten before and it had never stopped him. 

"Well, lover," he purred blatantly as he came to rest in Prowl's office door, leaning against it. "Aren't you a sight for sore..." His optics swept up and down. "Well, everything."

"It is good to see you whole again," Prowl replied smoothly, his attention returning to his work after a brief look up and smile with a fluttering of his doorwings.

"It's good to _feel_ whole again," Starscream said dryly as he scowled at the lack of continuous attention. "How do I get you away from that desk?"

"Suggest something other than talking," Prowl flicked a teasing grin at him.

Starscream rolled his optics and gestured up and down at his own frame. "I _exist_ , I think that in and of itself suggests doing something other than talking just for being a fact."

"Now you are just being dramatic," Prowl actually chuckled, but he put his datapad down and locked his station. "What do you suggest?"

"Dramatic is what I _do_ ," Starscream said with a grin as he sauntered forward and leaned over Prowl's desk and patted it, the cant of his wings leaving no question as to what he wanted. "Why don't you hop up here and help me work some kinks out."

Prowl shook his helm, but his doorwings flicked in amusement as he walked around his desk to catch Starscream's neck to pull him into a heated kiss. "Berth or wall, in my quarters."

Starscream hummed against him. "Wall, then, if you're going to make me wait that long."

"Deal," Prowl's doorwings gave a flick of mischievous intent as he let go and turned to leave, leading his lover to the officer's barracks and his quarters. Starscream barely had a chance to step fully inside before the door closed and locked, and then Prowl was against him, pressing him back as their mouths met again. Starscream groaned into it as he moved to spin Prowl to push him against the wall, but found the grounder frame resisting. He frowned--and moaned--and tried again, only to find his back against the wall and Prowl's hands stroking his wings as a leg came up to rub his valve cover. "Open up, lover. You know you want to be filled."

"With you on your back I might," Starscream snapped, but the cover snapped away and his field wasn't resisting no matter how sharp his tone was. Not quite sure, but aware that he couldn't get away from Prowl even if he wanted to, and beyond ready for a frag. "What's with you?"

"I've told you. I'm not a complete submissive," Prowl growled into a hungry kiss as his spike pressurized between them. "I won't ask for you to lay on your wings, but I'm done with always submitting."

"Oh _are_ you, now," Starscream said, and his engines shifted up into a steady purr as _interest_ pricked his field. "What makes you think I'm going to put up with that kind of behavior?"

"You said that too," Prowl shifted to rub his spike along Starscream's valve opening with a low moan. "You don't _want_ a complete submissive. You don't have much choice at this point either. I can feel how much you want it."

"But maybe I'll scream," Starscream said playfully as his hips cocked forward, but his legs stayed too close together for Prowl to do much other than rub. "You never know."

"I will soon," Prowl growled with a nipping kiss. One hand continued to stroke and fondle Starscream's wing, while the other moved down to catch a knee and pull it upwards, slowly opening the Seeker up to Prowl's spike. "They're used to you screeching in here now." He rubbed again and they could both feel that Starscream had fully slicked in just a few moments. 

"So I'm caught," the Seeker purred and nipped back. "I really should make you work harder for this. Next time you don't get me so easy."

"I do enjoy the chase," Prowl shivered in anticipation of it, then focused on the moment to sink into his lover. His optics flickered with pleasure and a soft, desire-filled moan escaped him as he was enveloped by slick, tight heat all the way to his housing.

Starscream echoed the sound and a _thrill_ went through his field. "Well go on, at least move faster than _that_ ," he said as Prowl started to pull out.

"When I'm ready to," Prowl chuckled and tilted his helm to nuzzle Starscream's throat. "Today you'll feel _my_ pace, my skill."

"Bossy," Starscream purred, and lifted his chin to give Prowl better access. It made his vents skip a little and his processor threw up alerts about baring his neck so fully, especially when Prowl began to mouth, then nip at the cabling. That just added to the thrill of being dominated, even if there wasn't much force being used this time. He supposed Prowl wasn't going to go all out on his first attempt. The mech was crazy-concerned about consent and not going too far too fast. It felt good to have the mech dominating him care that much, no matter how weird it was.

Prowl's thrusts rubbed against so many nodes that Starscream couldn't help the trembling keen even as the pace remained maddeningly slow. He could feel and teek how hot Prowl was, how much pleasure he was taking in this, and just how much self-control he was exerting to have it go exactly as he wanted it to.

This was an entirely different kind of domination to Starscream, but it felt really good, and he was happy to do the work needed alongside Prowl to really, fully figure each other out and make this work.

He whined as his frame began to work and tried to buck against the steady thrusts, but Prowl's hand putting pressure on his hip stopped most of the movement. He wasn't using enough force to make it cease entirely, but Starscream knew he was capable of it. "Just ... fragging..." he gasped, and then his helm slammed back as his entire frame arched in Prowl's arms, a shriek of surprise and ecstasy torn from him.

"Yes," Prowl's moan echoed against Starscream's throat and he suddenly thrust deep, hard and fast, his overload crashing through them just as Starscream's began to fade.

The Seeker shook as the scalding, charged liquid slammed into over-sensitized metal and his fingers dragged down Prowl's shoulders as his frame seized, the quivering going all the way out to his wingtips as he rode the rest of dragged-out overload. Eventually Prowl slumped forward slightly, his vents and fans working hard to cool him.

Another nuzzle to Starscream's throat, then a licking kiss. "Berth, or more here?" he jerked his hips forward in offer.

Starscream rolled his hips and gave Prowl a savage grin. "Oh, you are in for a _ride_ ," he said, pushing back.

"Yes, I am," Prowl purred as he pulled back, only to pull Starscream along. The Seeker willingly went, but squawked in surprise when Prowl made a sudden twist than landed Starscream on the berth, canopy down, hips up and with strong white hands pressing him down as Prowl's spike drove into him. "And you will enjoy everywhere I drive you."

" _Unh_ \--" Starscream hitched his wings and found their movement limited by Prowl's grip on the center joint. His helm was pressed to the berth and he gripped the padding, alternating between hissing and moaning as Prowl moved above him. "You--are _so_ \--getting some later."

"I look forward to it, _after_ I fully enjoy this," Prowl purred deeply, his thrusts deep and strong, lighting up sensors just as effectively as slow and deep against the wall had. "I am yours, and you are _mine_."

Starscream's field answered in a hot, bright flare, everything that he couldn't say out loud yet but that they still knew was a truth, at least between themselves. " _Harder_ ," he hissed as his frame rocked and burned.

"Such a demanding creature," Prowl teased him with a grunt, but complied, driving into the Seeker with all his strength. Primed as he was, it didn't take long for Prowl's frame to begin to crackle, and he flooded Starscream with a grunt and the first of many hard jerking thrusts. The Seeker screeched as his hips pushed back, bucking and thrashing through the overload that it triggered, tearing at the berth. Prowl continued to thrust, deep and hard, all through Starscream's overload and beyond, reveling in _finally_ getting to push Starscream as hard as he wanted to.

When he finally collapsed, later, after they were both exhausted and couldn't push any further, his doorwing overlapped Starscream's wing and he found the Seeker didn't protest. 

"Did you get what you needed," Starscream mumbled, barely online. "From the fight."

"Yes," Prowl replied, not much more coherent than his lover. "Thank you."

He got barely more than a hum in answer before the Seeker dropped down into recharge.


	12. To Live Again

Starscream got back to the deserted, enforced barracks outside Ankmor Park that he and Prowl were currently calling home, ready to throw his hands up with the entire planet, fly away and be done with it. He wasn't going to, of course, but it was nice to fantasize about. Underground pockets of rebellion were continuing to take out their numbers, and he wanted to scream at everyone who thought that continuing a dead grudge match was more important than _their species' survival._

It was enough to make even the most mild mannered mecha fume, and Starscream was far from mild mannered. He stalked through the empty halls until he found Prowl's preferred work space, growling as he entered. "You up to date on the fighting outside Tarn?" he snapped, not meaning to sound as hostile as he did but unable to help it.

"Of course," Prowl flicked a doorwing, though he gave no other indication of just how insulting the question really was. It was Prowl's _function_ to keep up to date. Even though Ironhide officially ran the military, it was still Prowl's tactics that kept them alive and kept the victories coming. "Only one minor injury to a Seeker. Ramjet is already back in the air."

The answer mollified and subdued him a little, and in two more paces Starscream realized that it wasn't battle maps, plans or anything else that made sense in front of his lover. They were schematics for three Aerials and some kind of flying car that as far as Starscream knew didn't exist.

"Anyone I know?" he asked curiously, scanning the four images and just couldn't be surprised at how varied they were. Each no doubt represented the best option Prowl had to maximize a specific trait. Two looked almost normal for average non-combat Aerial frames. The flying car was just flat out _weird_. The fourth one was alien to the extreme, but looked fast enough to challenge most Seekers.

"They are the finalists for my new frame," Prowl leaned back slightly into Starscream's field. "Your thoughts on aesthetics?"

Starscream frowned a little. "I can't _just_ look at aesthetics, but if I try, this one is certainly out," he touched the flying car. "This one is decent," he touched the second Aerial frame, "And these two are enjoyable, even if that one is bizarre. But in a good way. However, _that_ would be the easiest, fastest, and safest frame to work you into," he grumbled of the flying car.

"Yes, it would be," Prowl agreed evenly, though there was a bit of a scowl too. "However there is little point to undergoing _another_ full frame rebuild if you do not find the new frame attractive. The rebuild is more for you than me."

"...It isn't," Starscream said. "If I'm the only reason you want it, then we shouldn't even start. And time _is_ an important factor unless there's another you trust to take over the work if it isn't done in time."

"I never intended to do more than plan and prepare until after you are out of office," Prowl told him. "This only happens if Thundercracker allows you to live. It is for you, for the future if we are part of it."

Starscream x-vented slowly and nodded, leaning up behind Prowl and resting his chin on the top of his helm as his hands settled on top of the doorwings. It was a very small step, and one taken only recently, but Prowl's field still flared warmly at the touch. "Then one of these," he said, and pointed between the strange alien looking one and the sleeker traditional flight build. "Do you have any root mode concepts for them?"

Prowl tapped a command and brought up the root modes. There were much as Starscream expected. The flying car looked more like a grounder than Prowl currently did with no appendages to flutter at all. The things with wings he had an instinctive understanding of after dealing with fighting them for so long and there were no surprises.

"Ugh, definitely _not_ that car thing," he said. "Absolutely not, I forbid it. The lighter Aerial, or that crazy one, though I think I'm partial to the former. Less work and prettier." He cocked his head. "Do you have any ideas for what to do with your tac net?"

"Apparently I will be able to keep much of it," Prowl's doorwings flicked in annoyance. "With the time Ratchet now has, he can hardwire the systems to be on or off. The tac-net will be at 20% when I'm using the flight capabilities, and when the turbines and flight systems are powered down the tac-net will be close to 80%. At least if his current estimates are correct. The refusal had more to do with the downgrade than being fully incompatible. Wartime priorities being what they are," he shrugged and leaned back into Starscream. "The other reason I was denied was over the 36% chance of failure for the procedure."

Starscream's wings rattled softly at that information as he hissed, his grip on Prowl tightening. "No _grounder_ has the right to deny a flier his wings, for _any_ reason. I would tear out his spark if I could."

"I know," Prowl sighed and lifted a hand to rub Starscream's. "Not even Ratchet knew I'd once had wings at that time," he said softly. "I wasn't prepared to admit who I'd been created as. I'd barely managed to accept speaking of it when I first told you. A vorn and a half and I am still not comfortable admitting it."

"Lover, I've seen your _spark_ ," Starscream purred deeply against his audial. "You are a flier."

Prowl shivered with desire. "It takes a flier to know a flier," he turned his helm for a kiss. "Or perhaps simply a willingness to look past my function."

"Hmm, yes," Starscream hummed against him. "I needed to get to know you to know the best way to destroy you, things just got a little turned around on me." He pulled Prowl's chair out and walked around, climbing up into his lap. "You are _better_ than grounders, even if you're trapped in this frame. I'll fix it if I can." 

"I know," Prowl reached up to drape his arms over Starscream's shoulders and drew him in for a kiss. "You've given me the desire to ask for what is rightfully mine. Now we must wait for Thundercracker to decide whether I will enjoy flying with you or not."

Starscream's wings twitched in an odd, rapid way and his field went--numb. "Saw Thundercracker," he muttered, and rested his helm against Prowl's. "He trined."

"That ... did not take long," Prowl murmured, somewhat shocked. He reached to stroke the upset wings. "Do you know with whom?"

"Dogfight, almost certainly," Starscream said bitterly. "I didn't get close enough to tell. But as soon as he found out Thundercracker had rejected me..." He waved a dismissive hand and gave a low, angry hiss. "I don't know who their Vision is. And it wasn't that long, not really. Not for a _trine._ I would be shocked if he's taken a serious lover."

Prowl processed that for a lingering moment and accepted the tac-net's statement that he was missing critical information. "If you did not get close enough to see or teek who they are, how do you know he had trined?"

Starscream lifted his head a little and click-whistled a glyph that Prowl was unfamiliar with. He saw the lack of comprehension on the Praxian face and thought about a translation for a few moments. "There's a ... _transponder?_ " He canted his wings in thought. "That's a crude translation, but it at least explains the _how_. Trineless Seekers send out a signal broadcasting what position they are. It ceases when they have a full trine."

Prowl's optics cycled in surprise. "So you do not even need to see the Seeker to know they are available, and for what position? You've been broadcasting since Skywarp extinguished?"

"In a way. That first vorn it signaled that I didn't have a full trine, but I was grieving a lost trinemate. It's ... rude ... to actively court a Seeker that's grieving. Dogfight started positioning himself to make a move as soon as the time was up, and he was unsociably pushy about it," Starscream sighed and pressed a little closer to his lover. "But as an Autobot and untrined Seeker at his age it was somewhat forgivable given all the circumstances." His wings pressed into Prowl's soothing touch.

"Will another twenty-three vorns cause much harm to you from not having a trine?" Prowl asked. He was sure he'd asked before, but he hadn't understood as much then. Now he tried to remember if there were any Seekers that paid more attention to Starscream than maybe they should. As a single Vision, he should be the subject of intense competition.

"Twenty-three?" Starscream scoffed. "Hardly. I'll be a little glitchy and rather neurotic, but I won't be _insane_. Hundred twenty-three, I'll be insane." His wings tilted thoughtfully. "Though the fool Autobot Seekers somehow survived, but _war_ may have prioritized things. It is no coincidence that the Neutral survivors keep coming in multiples of three." 

"Then you'll still be a prize when you're actually available," Prowl murmured. "The Actions and Orders still outnumber the Visions. You are likely the only Vision without a trine now. Thundercracker must have convinced Brainstorm, or found a Vision no one knew about."

Starscream hissed again, a clear sign of displeasure with the other Vision, Brainstorm or not.

Prowl let out a long sigh and focused on rubbing Starscream's wings until the Seeker calmed down and their forehelms rested together once more. "Are you hoping Thundercracker will kill you?"

Starscream twitched. " _No._ If I'm hoping for _anything_ it's for those two _interlopers_ to get smelted so he's forced to reconsider his options."

"I'm serious, Starscream," Prowl huffed at him. "I can't plan without knowing what _your_ hopes are for. What we do with the next twenty-three vorns is very different depending on if you _want_ to see the other side of it."

" _No_ I'm not hoping he'll kill me," Starscream hissed at him with an exasperated flare. "I wouldn't have survived an _orn_ of Megatron if I was that weak-minded."

Prowl tipped his helm so their optics met and his field hardened in a way Starscream recognized from the most aggressive of Orders that were going to get their way or extinguish trying and didn't care how many gray frames they left in their wake. "Then changing your processor or spark on this is not going to be an option. Understood?"

Starscream's wings flicked--surprise, awe--and he remained frozen and fixed in that stare. "I can't take back my promise," he said. 

"I do not want you to," Prowl said firmly. "It is Thundercracker's choice to allow you to live. I have twenty-three vorns to convince him that it is the choice he wants. For your survival, having him trined is the best thing that could have happened. It means he's moving forward. _You_ are not going to make or accept any efforts to trine until after he states you are allowed to live. He needs you to hurt and be shunned. You will give him that and I will help ensure it happens. You will _show_ him that you are being punished and that you feel it."

"He _knows_ I hurt," Starscream said, but he'd already canted his wings in obedience. "He _has_ to know that. And then he goes and _humiliates_ me with--" He broke off and shook his head with a bitter laugh. "Skywarp could always sweet talk him out of being a such a haughty aft."

"If he's acting out, he's recovering," Prowl's voice and field softened. "For now, just keep going as you have been. He's getting what he needs. If he gets enough, he'll forgive you enough to let you live." He began to stroke Starscream's wings again. "Now, enough of the depressing subjects. Berth, wall ... or right here?" he trilled seductively.

"You think I pulled you out here just to sit nicely on your lap?" Starscream asked as he began to settle, field soothing out with the calming strokes. It took a few kliks but Prowl was well-versed in methods of calming the high-strung Seeker down, and once he had, Starscream pressed in for a deep kiss that was welcomed, encouraged and moaned shamelessly into.

"I rather hoped not," Prowl panted when their mouths finally parted. "Never known anyone that made me this hot," he growled into a kiss that didn't conceal the click of his spike cover sliding open.

"Really," Starscream purred as he exposed his valve and canted his hips back so they wouldn't align properly. "Why don't I see if I can make you a bit hotter then." 

"I'm all yours," Prowl shivered in anticipation and his field flared out, pushing deep into Starscream.

"I know," Starscream said as he reached down between them to tease his fingers over the spike housing, coaxing at the tip, and then the rest of the length as it emerged. He pressed Prowl's spike lightly between his pelvis and his hand, rocking his hips to just barely create friction against it. " _My_ you always get hard so fast," he purred.

"Because I _desire_ you," Prowl's helm tipped back as he tried to rock into the teasing touches only to have his lover pull just _that_ much more away every time he did, wanting this more than he could ever recall wanting another before.

"I can tell," Starscream hummed as he nipped at Prowl's mouth and jaw. "Can you tell how much I desire you?" he continued, and moved _just_ enough for the platelets around his valve rub against Prowl's spike, slick with lubricant. "I'm incredibly slick..."

"Feel it, teek it, I _know_ it," Prowl almost keened with need. His doorwings began to flutter in pent up _want_. His hands stroked Starscream's wings, then moved to stroking his cockpit. "You're going to tease me until I break."

"You're a smart one," Starscream purred as his own wings quivered with the same desire and excitement. "You look so perfectly _helpless_ when you're trying to hold yourself back, and then you get so wonderfully _aggressive_."

"You love it," Prowl's optics lost focus as he pulled Starscream into a hard kiss as he began to come undone. "You screech and thrash and protest, but you love being under me, pinned and forced to take whatever I give you."

"Maybe I do," Starscream moaned. "Or maybe I want to ride you right here and I'll fight you every step of the way until I do."

"You'll fight, and you'll lose," Prowl gasped. Without warning he gripped Starscream's sides and pushed him to his back on the floor with a single lunge forward.

Starscream gave a short screech of protest and squirmed-- _on his wings!_ \--grabbing for Prowl's shoulders and getting his legs shut. "Oh you _think,_ " he growled, and bucked up with his hips, partially dislodging the Praxian. It didn't really help him. Prowl had moved first, had the advantage in position and got his knee between Starscream's with the next struggle.

" _Mine_ ," Prowl hissed as he pressed down to claim Starscream's mouth as he forced the Seeker's legs apart. "Every part of you is mine."

Starscream bit Prowl's lower lip, _hard_ , and snarled. "Prove it."

Prowl grinned down at him, the energon dripping from his lip ignored in favor of driving his hips down and forward to sink fully into the hot, slick, oh-so-ready valve in a single motion. "Your valve, your spike, your _spark_ ," he groaned in pleasure and forced Starscream's chin up to suck and nip at the neck cables. "Even your wings are mine for the taking."

Starscream groaned--pinned, on his back, on his _wings_ , and he knew he couldn't break it so he rocked into it instead. " _Frag_ \-- _you!_ " he gasped, and his wings trembled, scraping on the ground. "I'll-- _I'll_ \--" He keened and broke off, fingers flexing uselessly in the air where Prowl had his wrists pinned. "Gonna _frag_ you for this!"

"Only if I _allow_ it," Prowl rumbled as he thrust deep and hard, the pace a fast one in response to their state of arousal.

"We'll _see_ \--unh--just who--allows who," Starscream managed, and screeched as he arched his back. "Don't stand a chance in the _sky--!_ " He screamed as he overloaded, hard and fast from Prowl's demanding rhythm. The first hard jolt from that sent Prowl over the edge and he ground their arrays together as he overloaded hard. The flood of crackling transfluid against the deepest nodes in his valve drew another strangled screech from Starscream and the Seeker's frame seized up, joints locking and back strut bowing. It put more pressure on his wings and he groaned as the joint strained, but his leg still ran up Prowl's side until it was up by his hip, and he froze there, panting and gasping into the bursts of pleasure of each grinding push of transfluid until Prowl finally sank down, relaxing for a brief moment.

"You protest too much," Prowl chuckled as he shifted to pull out of his lover when Starscream finally relaxed. "You love it and we both know it."

"Move," Starscream said, suddenly desperate to be off his wings. Prowl obeyed immediately and moved to the side, allowing Starscream to sit as quickly as possible. A shuddering sigh of relief escaped him before he grabbed Prowl in a harsh kiss and pushed him down and back. "Said I'd frag you for that. And I do _not_ protest too much."

"And I said it would be when I allow it," Prowl rumbled without anger and twisted to put Starscream on his back again. The Seeker thrashed against it and struck out with his claws but Prowl caught them and pinned them, then settled to straddle his hips, hands on Starscream's wings. "I'm going to ride your spike, then take your spark. _Then_ you can have me any way you want it."

Starscream hissed but the surge of arousal through his field easily told Prowl to keep going. "You're on my _wings,_ " he growled.

"It's past time you got used to it," Prowl purred as he rubbed his bared valve against Starscream's spike cover and felt it snap away. "I've been on mine for two vorns for you. It's your turn."

"You are _so_ in for it when I get you in the sky," Starscream said, head falling back as his spike began to extend into the enticing heat.

"Good," Prowl rumbled in arousal from both the feel of his lover's spike pressing into his slick heat and the newness of feeling it while being on top, and in anticipation at Starscream thoroughly using him in the sky. It was strange to the dominant grounder coding, but his spark had begun to pull long dormant flier coding into activating ever since their first flight and that part of him loved the thrill of wind and pleasure and trusting the dominant flier in a coupling. He ruled on the ground, and Starscream ruled in the sky. And he knew they were both more than happy with it.

The Seeker bucked up and moaned when he was fully sheathed inside, trying to rock and direct the rhythm from the pin. " _Hot_ ," he gasped when Prowl cycled around him.

"For you," Prowl moaned as he rose and sank at his own pace, squeezing, rubbing and cycling his valve around the spike so wonderfully filling him. As he rocked, carefully and precisely, the anxious tension slowly began to drain from the frame beneath him. Wings relaxed, fingers uncurled from their fists, and their movement began to sync up. Starscream's optics gradually dimmed down to a dull red, his mouth just barely open enough to draw in air, as moans and gasps fell from his vocalizer.

_Trust_

The Seeker trusted him enough to relax, and _enjoy_ , from the pin.

It sent an extra thrill though Prowl's systems to know he'd finally earned that trust and he moaned deeply as he came down to press their arrays flush. It felt good, so very good, to ride this lover. It had taken much to get here and Prowl reveled in winning the game far more than the physical pleasure it created. It only strengthened his resolve to convince Thundercracker to let Starscream live. The Seeker had suffered enough from the death of his Action and trinemate, and Prowl would make the Order see it. 

And then they would _fly_ together. 

The physical overload was almost an afterthought compared to the way their fields braided together, flush and pulsing with the intensity of the moment.

Prowl sank forward as his overload faded, resting on top of Starscream, his hands lax and beginning to stroke rather than hold the wings under them. Tiny, lingering arcs of static followed his fingers and Starscream wrapped his arms around Prowl's shoulders, holding him tight as they recovered together. 

"Skywarp always said I'd meet someone as stubborn as I am and then I'd regret it," Starscream mumbled, teeking dazed. There was a pause. "I don't regret it."

Prowl hummed, deeply pleased by the admission. "I don't regret us either. The price for me has been well worth it."

"Good," Starscream said, and one hand came around to slip under Prowl's chin and tilt his face up, a thumb running over the damaged lower lip. His own mouth curved up in a bit of a smirk, but it was softer than his normal expression. "We're quite the pair."

"Yes we are," Prowl chuckled softly as his glossa snaked out to lick the thumb. "It will be magnificent to _fly_ with you."

"Yes," Starscream purred. "It will be." The locks in his chest unlatched, a complex series of small transformation sequences brought the canopy back as the wiring and armor beneath it folded away. He watched as a simpler-seeming but no less complex transformation parted the white armor above him and allowed their sparks to feel each other without interference.

The moan that echoed up was mutual when the chambers opened and the first tendrils found each other. Neither was inclined to fight, or think, or search, but to simply sink into the safety that was a trusted lover's spark.

* * *

Starscream cut through the frigid air of the upper atmosphere, caught between the stars and the lights on the planet below. Cybertron was slowly beginning to light again. It was nothing like it had been in his youth, when the planet had been a glittering, golden gem suspended in space, but there was a kind of beauty to the sparse lights. 

The elections were over, he had stepped down from his office the orn before. He was trying to think forward, to what was about to happen, but his thoughts stayed stubbornly fixed on the night before. 

He'd been looking out the window, up at the sky, taking solace in the sight, one of the few that could still calm his processors, stop the racing circuits and the growing obsession with multiples of three. Even Prowl had noticed. Three laps around their home before landing, three sips of energon at a time, three taps against his desk when he was working. Crying out Prowl's designation three times, every time. 

_"Tomorrow," he'd said. Prowl was on the berth behind him, waiting for him to come lay down._

_"Do you know where?"_

_"I know."_

Thundercracker had never told him, and he'd never asked, but he didn't need to. The mountaintop they'd trined on, after he'd flown to convince them of the arrangement. Near the ruins of Old Vos, the ground pitted and blackened after eons of war. It had never been a question of _where_. 

He disengaged his visual inputs and flew on his instruments, remembering. 

_"Here on Cybertron, or on Earth?" Prowl asked quietly._

_"Cybertron." Wings flicked three times, and then three again._

_Prowl hummed, then nodded and reached out to rub soothing circles on Starscream's wings. "I will drive out there after an orn if you have not returned."_

_"I don't care what happens to my frame," Starscream said, and almost sobbed when he realized the circles on his wings were looping three times before pausing, then three times again, over and over. "I don't want you to see."_

_"I have interred those I loved before," Prowl said softly. "I have lost those I loved as well. It is better to see, and know. I will have a solid alibi. I intend to make myself visible and easily tracked once you leave. If anyone hates me enough to edit all the evidence so I am convicted, they would not stop if it fails this time. As much as he'd enjoy seeing me convicted, I do not believe Jazz would go that far."_

_Starscream nodded once, and fell silent._

_Eventually they made their way to the berth and pressed against each other, into each other, until they couldn't move any more and Starscream rested his head on Prowl's chest. "I love-love-love you."_

_"I love you, my Star," Prowl whispered in reply. What his frame couldn't do to stroke the Seeker, his field did, expressing how thankful and grateful he was for this incredibly rare verbal admission. Words of affection did not come easy to Starscream and Prowl had long ago easily accepted field and action as proof. "I always will."_

The words echoed in Starscream's processor over and over and over as he reluctantly began to descend towards the planet. Heat readings showed a dead city peppered with scavenging mecha-animals, and far beyond and above, a single spot large enough to be a Seeker. 

He transformed and landed, looking around. "You would ruin this city and this spot even more than it already has been?"

"Just as you ruined our trine," Thundercracker rumbled as he stepped forward, his wings high with anger and scowl firmly in place. "What you began here I will end here."

"Do your _trinemates_ know what you're doing?" Starscream asked as his wings dipped in answer. Submission. Thundercracker was still his Order, no matter whether it was real or not.

"No," Thundercracker answered with a growl. "This is between _us_. It _should_ have been done the orn you killed him."

Starscream bowed his helm, stepped forward, and held his arms out as his canopy folded back, his armor parted away, and Thundercracker's form was lit with the bright yellow light. "If it's worth anything, I loved him too." He lifted his chin and held his wings proudly. "Just-just-just do it." 

Thundercracker's expression twitched. "You're starting to glitch already?"

"What do you care?" Starscream hissed. "I'm not-not-not going to glitch for much longer." 

"No," Thundercracker agreed and stepped closer, within easy reach and lifted his hand to ghost it over the crystal that contained his former trinemate's very life-force. "I do not understand why that grounder is still with you. Must be punishing himself."

"He loves me," Starscream said simply.

Thundercracker's scowl deepened. "How could he possibly love _you?_ "

"I pay attention to him," Starscream said. "I see what he really is."

"Such low standards," Thundercracker huffed and closed his claws around Starscream's crystal. "But just maybe now you understand what I lost."

"There was never a time when I-I-I didn't understand what you lost," Starscream said quietly. His optics lifted up, fixed on the stars. 

Thundercracker snarled at him and his other hand shot up and the whine of a blaster came next to Starscream's audial, pressed to his helm. "I'm going to enjoy this," he said coldly, and his wings lifted up in anticipation. 

Starscream offlined his optics and felt the claws tighten in around his chamber and heard the sound of hydraulics preparing to yank back, and then the sharp explosion of blaster fire whited everything out. 

And then--

He almost didn't want to believe it, but he flicked his optics on again and looked at Thundercracker, who stared back, and then stepped away. He had minor damage readings from the heat of the blaster so close to his helm, but nothing more.

"Why-why-why do I-I-I live?" he stammered as he stared at Thundercracker and attempted to reconcile. When the blue Seeker didn't respond immediately, he wondered if this was what being deactivated felt like. Yet when he commanded his chest to close it complied, giving the sequence he had long become used to.

Thundercracker stared at him for a long time, long enough for Starscream to wonder if he actually _was_ dead and just hallucinating this from his failing frame, and then the blue Seeker bowed his head and turned away. "It wasn't all your fault," he said. "I realize that now. I was standing right next to him, _teeking him_ , and I didn't even have the presence of mind to get him out of there. He loved you. You were his bitchy, demanding, self-obsessed Vision and he loved you." His wings lowered, heavy with grief. "He wouldn't have wanted this. I can just hear him yelling at me." 

"No, he-he-he wouldn't have wanted any-any-anything to break his trine," Starscream managed, almost wobbling with relief. "He would-would-wouldn't have wanted us to hurt because of him-him-him." He hesitated as he gathered himself. "Thank you. For sparing Prowl's pain."

"Wasn't for Prowl," Thundercracker said.

"I-I-I know." Starscream murmured, his optics down. "It's still why I-I-I am thankful."

Thundercracker just nodded, and they stood in silence for long kliks before he spoke again. "Would you ... take a mourning flight with me? His trine should mourn him properly."

Starscream hesitantly looked at Thundercracker, then canted his wings in submissive agreement. "He should-should-should be."

Thundercracker inclined his helm, then jumped into the air, Starscream right behind him, letting him lead the flight. He took his place at Thundercracker's right wing, the position he'd craved to fly in for so many vorns. 

They flew in silence, their fields mixing in their grief as they made their way to the highest altitude that still supported atmosphere, into the wild winds and the sparkling crystal dust that scratched their finish at these speeds. It would leave marks on their finish that every Seeker would recognize. Marks that they would not have buffed, polished or waxed out. They would remain until they were worn out naturally with the rest of the Seeker's paint. Morning was officially over when they repainted and looked good as new. Thundercracker had done this once, after the funeral, and Starscream wasn't sure if he'd let his finish go a second time.

Starscream would, though. He'd explain it to Prowl, and maybe, just maybe, when he'd worn his finish to base metal and the scratches were no more, he could let the grief go.

* * *

Prowl made his way up the mountain that Starscream had named, weary from the long drive and the heavy uncertainty that was settled over him. Starscream had made him promise not to comm or ping, and for all he knew, he was going to drive up just as Thundercracker was finishing the deed.

Starscream had, after all, promised his spark. If Thundercracker wanted to hurt him first, it was his choice. While the blue Seeker had told Prowl, on pain of deactivation if the information got to Starscream, that he no longer intended to deactivate his former Vision, both of them acknowledged that until the moment happened, there were no promises.

Prowl couldn't hear anything as he crested the ridge and transformed, immediately zeroing in on the single form sitting not far away. Red chest, white wings, golden canopy. All intact.

_Living._

A huge weight lifted from Prowl's processors and spark before he even fully realized the optics, red optics, were lit and looking right at him.

Prowl's doorwings trembled slightly as he forced himself not to rush to his lover, though his steps were more hurried than usual.

Starscream offered him a drawn-looking smile when he came close. "I'm alive," he said, and it sounded like he was still coming to terms with that. Their fields brushed, one trembling in relief, the other half numb and somewhat shocky, and then Prowl's hand came up to caress Starscream's face.

"Did he say why?" Prowl's voice was level, something the rest of him betrayed as a lie.

"Said it wasn't all my fault," Starscream said numbly, turning into the hand. "And Skywarp wouldn't have wanted it. He asked me to fly-fly-fly with him." His voice was faint and wondering, even disbelieving.

Prowl smiled gently and drew Starscream against him, his engine purring softly. "I'm glad," he whispered, reaching out to gently stroke one of Starscream's wings. "Are you ready to come home?"

"I suppose you want me to carry you, then," Starscream said dryly, but he teeked relieved as he stood.

"Unless you want several joors alone when you get home, or to circle as I drive, it is preferable," Prowl managed a small smile at the return of the mech he knew.

"I _suppose_ I can suffer the indignities of carrying a grounder," Starscream sighed dramatically as he pulled Prowl close and took off. "But you might have to convince me not to drop you."

"That threat ran out of veracity on our first mating flight," Prowl purred and held on, his grip one to help Starscream, rather than protect himself. Like every time he was in the air like this his spark gave little pulsing flutters of joy.

"What exactly do you think I mean by 'convince me?'" Starscream purred playfully. A sharp flare of desire-want roared through Prowl's field in a mute but very solid agreement as they cut through the sky together, finally feeling free to enjoy life for the first time that either could remember since long before the war.


	13. Frame, Trine and Seekerlings

Prowl gradually came online to the expected scrolling of notices over his HUD informing him of exactly how thorough this rebuild had been--and how taxing that was going to make the recovery. He could still feel the presence of the tac-net but it seemed somehow ... less intrusive.

As physical sensation came back, he realized he was _sore_. As further senses returned, he realized he wasn't alone. He finally recalled that his designation as of a few kliks ago was Caelum, a more intellectual glyph in Vosian for the sky. Prowl was officially deactivated.

"All I'm saying is that if you fragged him up--"

"Don't you have _anyone_ else to annoy right now?" Ratchet sounded like he was exhausted, and Caelum was sure it wasn't from the surgery. 

"No. He should be online already."

"Starscream, he is taking an acceptable amount of time to boot that is well within normal parameters." That was the patience-wearing-thin voice. 

"So when does it become _un_ acceptable?"

"I don't know, in three more breems," Ratchet muttered. "But he's online. Probably still dealing with notices. Now would you _please_ be _quiet_. I don't know how he manages to listen to your voice all orn."

" _Ugh._ Fine. Three breems of silence." Caelum felt Starscream's hand on his shoulder, the touch light and anxious.

He pressed his field towards his lover, hoping to reassure without taking too much attention from clearing his boot queue. The sooner he cleared that, the sooner he'd have a better assessment of how much he was willing to accept to dull the ache. 

It seemed to calm Starscream a little, but predictably, exactly three breems later... 

" _Ratchet._ He is still not fully online." 

"For the _love_ of _Primus_ Starscream give the mech some peace to boot!"

"I don't believe..."

" _I do not care_ you crazy glitch!" Ratchet roared at him.

"I'm fine," Caelum said after a couple attempts to boot his new vocalizer. The sounds that came out, his new voice, was deep and rich, not unlike his old one, but far more expressive. It reminded him of the starry sky over central North America on Earth, and he didn't question the correlation.

"Oh," Starscream said. "Well, finally!"

Caelum heard Ratchet mutter something to himself that sounded just this side of done with the entire ordeal.

"We can talk in three more kliks," Caelum soothed his lover further with exact information, then sank fully into his own systems to finish the first-boot sequence analyzation that was so important to the next few orns.

"It's been three-three-three, three-three-three, three-three-three kliks," Starscream said when the specified time had elapsed. From behind him, Ratchet's optic roll was just about audible. 

"Ratchet," Caelum booted his optics, the same ice blue he'd had for so long. "I would appreciate sedatives and pain blockers for the next ten orns."

"I'll give you four orns' worth," Ratchet countered, surprised and pleased by the request. "More as you need them. I expect to see you back every orn until further notice."

"Understood, and accepted," Caelum groaned as he tried to sit up and was reminded that only the most basic of movement commands still worked. All the finer motor control would have to be relearned. It would be easier this time since he had experience of the process, but it was still going to be an unpleasant decaorn. He just hoped that Starscream would be able to manage being relatively patient throughout the entire process.

"Caelum," Starscream caught his attention and turned his helm. "Do you still like it, now that you're in the frame?"

"So far, no objections," Caelum said carefully. "Once I can move effectively on my own and I no longer ache I will have a more valid opinion of it."

"Helping him sit wouldn't be a bad idea, Starscream," Ratchet pointed out.

"You're-you're- _you're_ the medic," Starscream snapped, but his hands were immediately there, one against Caelum's lower back and the other on his arm. "It suits you, the designation," he told his lover. "The rebuild came out amazingly."

"Good," Caelum groaned and leaned on his lover as he got enough commands sorted out to sit up. His long, thick wings with their heavy turbines quivered in exhaustion from just that much effort. "Looking forward to flying again, in a couple decaorns," he added before Ratchet could snarl.

"Looking forward to flying _with_ you," Starscream purred, nuzzling him carefully. "Do you need more pain blockers? Can I bring him home?"

"If he needs more he'll need to see me for them," Ratchet said firmly as he held out several datachips to Starscream. "Be particularly careful with the sedative programs. His psychology is not prepared for it, and frankly neither are his processors. Caelum has a long recovery ahead of him to undo all the damage that was done to Prowl from his upgrades."

"I know, Ratchet," Caelum leaned against Starscream and relaxed, grateful for the support. It took several tries, but he got an arm port open and the medic obligingly installed the first pain blocker. After a quarter klik it had wound its way through his feedback processors and Caelum slumped in relief. "Transport's ready?"

"It's ready. You can go home." Ratchet huffed and backed off to watch Starscream gently, carefully, get the rebuilt mech off the berth and onto his pedes. "Stubborn glitches."

Starscream hissed at him, his wings rattled threateningly. "There's nothing _glitchy_ about trying to fix the damage that was done to him."

"There isn't a survivor I've met that wasn't a stubborn glitch," Ratchet snapped back. "You two are among the worst. Now take him home, get him to _rest_ and take care of him like a good mate."

"Home," Caelum trilled with a bit of longing, though the actual glyph used had more to do with the sky than the berth they were headed for and was of distinctly Vosian origin.  
   
Starscream trilled back to him as they made their very slow way across the room. "Soon," he promised. "I'll take you out and _spin_ you around the planet. As soon as it's safe."

"As soon as it's safe," Caelum agreed, leaning on his mate for support as he focused on commanding the unfamiliar frame. Every step was easier. Each repetition imprinted the correct commands, millions of them, needed to take a step into a command sequence labeled 'step forward with left pede' or 'step forward with right pede' rather than activating each command separately in order. It ached, it was a strain even for Caelum's powerful processors, but step by step he was growing steadier.

When they reached the transport Caelum was able to walk at a normal pace, though his balance was still questionable. Starscream carefully supported him the entire way as they climbed into the former weapons transportation specialist, Steelside. There was enough room inside for the two of them and some cargo, but little else. It was safe, secure, and they both trusted this mech to get them home, especially with Caelum in such bad condition. 

Starscream knelt down in front of Caelum after he was settled and reached up to brush his fingers over his jaw. "You look incredible," he said, and his wings were ever so slightly trembling with the force of how attractive he found this frame.

"Thank you," Caelum quivered with delight, awe and adoration, though it showed more in his field than his frame as he leaned forward and sought a kiss.

Starscream pressed back as hard as he dared, his hand going from Caelum's jaw, tracing down his neck and moving over to the top of the wing, and stroking along the top edge. _Wings_. Not the doorwings the Seeker had found so repulsive, but real _wings_. Strong wings, too. "It's going to be awful keeping my hands off you," he complained.

"Your _hands_ can touch as much as you want. Massage would feel wonderful," Caelum moaned between them, his entire frame shifting to press into the touch. "You know how pleasant being rebuilt is."

"Mmm, let me rephrase, then," Starscream purred as he rubbed along the smooth planes. "It's going to be awful keeping everything _else_ off of you. Or out of you."

"I know, but you will," Caelum gasped, his field flaring hard and bright against Starscream's before he forcefully restrained it, even though he did nothing to stop himself from all but physically begging for more contact, more _touch_. "It will make our first flight together all the more intense."

Starscream shuddered with _want_. "Something to-to-to look forward to, then," he hummed, and settled into the massage, carefully going over every plate until he was loose enough to get at the wires beneath, and his field was bright with the joy of finding his mate _attractive_. 

Everything else, he could wait for. 

* * *

Caelum slowly cycled up out of the recharge cycle--mandatory by Ratchet's orders, or he wouldn't bother at all--to become aware of his lover's field right above him and onlined his visual systems, looking up. Starscream was perched over him, optics bright and focused. "Readings," he demanded, as a cube of energon was pushed forward. 

Three decaorns after his full rebuild, and his lover was starting to get a little twitchy from the restrictions. Caelum was still sore, but he felt good, and he scanned the updated progress on the self-repair systems.

"All on schedule," he reported with a deepening purr as he accepted the cube and downed it, then reached up to pull his lover in for a kiss. "Unless Ratchet finds something wrong, I can _fly_ today ... and other enjoyable things as well."

"So let's get you to Ratchet," Starscream said, pushing back with a whining rev from his engines. "Unless you feel like being rebellious..."

Caelum hummed and considered his mate thoughtfully. "Once he says I can fly, I'm going to want to fly," he slid his hands out along the flat of Starscream's wings. "Why don't I take the edge off your charge so I can feel the air before you pounce me?"

"Still gonna pounce you," Starscream nearly growled as he grabbed Caelum for a biting kiss that was returned with just as much fire.

"Then sit on the edge and I'll suck you off," Caelum chuckled, his wings fluttering in anticipation of being pounced in the air.

Starscream took a few more moments to kiss him--and Caelum could tell the Seeker was actually holding himself back from the force he wanted to use--before rolling up and sitting where instructed, looking over his shoulder with an impatient trill as Caelum got off the berth. Caelum slid his hands along Starscream's upper legs, and just that was enough to make the cover snap back. He pushed them apart and knelt between, caressing Starscream's housing with a heated x-vent. The Seeker moaned and his hands came to rest on Caelum's helm, gripping as tightly as he dared, and the shudder when a warm mouth encircled his tip reached all the way out to his wings.

Caelum purred in anticipation and swirled his glossa around the tip, licking at the slit transfluid shot out of, before lowering his helm and taking more into his mouth. All the while he rubbed the seams of Starscream's legs and joints, stroking and encouraging his lover to enjoy the attention.

" _Finally_ ," Starscream moaned, slowly sinking back onto his elbows, head tilting up. The warmth from Caelum's frame radiated through his spike, into his protoform, up through his lines, making his sensor net feel like it was _glowing_. 

He still felt the giddy thrill of how eagerly Caelum devoted himself to this task, bobbing up and down and caressing the thin, sensitive metal. Beyond that was the deeper understanding that he could let his guard down and trust his lover not to injure him while he was this vulnerable, and that made it all the sweeter. It hadn't been that many vorns ago that such an idea would have been ludicrous. Now it seemed almost natural to relax into the pleasure and enjoy the pleasure his lover took in doing this.

A gasp escaped Starscream's vocalizer when lip plates touched his housing and still-learning intake contracted and rippled around the head. His hips pushed up and he whined sharply, gripping at the berth. Close. _Close_. It hadn't been all that long since Caelum had come out of his rebuild, but recharging next to him every night, being able to _smell_ him and teek him and touch him, had made him extremely jittery. 

To put it mildly. 

Not even a few liaisons with other Seekers had done much to dim his charge.

" _Caelum,_ " he growled, and his hips jerked up again. Caelum held on and sucked and swallowed, listening to Starscream groan and driving him until he overloaded, shooting into his throat. Swallowing wasn't as smooth a process as it had once been, but he still got most of it down and knew how to do better next time.

Almost reluctantly Caelum lifted his helm off the spike, allowing it to slide from his lips as he licked it clean. As soon as he stood he captured Starscream's mouth in a hungry kiss.

"Let's go. I want to _fly_ ," Caelum rumbled, the powerful turbines on his wings beginning to spin eagerly.

"Not gonna wait for Ratchet's permission?" Starscream purred eagerly as he stood and brought Caelum with him to the wide-open window-doors that led to a high balcony.

There was a wobbling moment where Caelum genuinely began pre-take-off before he forced it to shut down with a low whine. "No. It's not worth the price. In a joor he won't yell about it."

"We could fly over there together and that would be proof enough," Starscream coaxed, but when Caelum held his ground, sulkingly returned to the berth. 

Caelum joined him, purring and nuzzling. Starscream gave a displeased growl and got a chuckle in return. 

"It's really for you, you know," Caelum murmured playfully. "If you allowed me to go out flying without being approved Ratchet would blame _you_." 

"...Ah," Starscream said. "Well when you put it like that."

"I know him. He would." Caelum turned Starscream's face for a soft kiss. "Let's go to the appointment and it will be the last time we won't fly somewhere."

"I'm holding you to that," Starscream grumbled as he was nuzzled and coaxed to follow, walking behind his lover as they made their way out. He made a point of complaining loudly whenever something too "grounder" happened and made sure that everyone who could hear him knew that his pedes were making contact with the ground unnecessarily. Publicly, the amusement in his lover's wings did not improve his temper. Privately, it made Starscream thrill a little that his lover _got_ it.

The transport was waiting for them, and the short flight was quiet but full of light touches and murmurs of affection.

Ratchet was waiting for them and he looked mildly surprised when they appeared on time with cold thrusters. "Any pain?" he asked as he plugged into Caelum's neck and began scanning.

"Negative," Caelum responded. "The aches that remain are expected. Components that have not been used enough to finalize integration with my processors."

Ratchet glanced up at him with a single raised optic ridge. "And I suppose you're hoping I clear them for use."

Caelum gave the medic a very Prowl-like look. "If I wasn't, I would require serious psychological review."

Ratchet snickered immediately. "Yeah, suppose you would," he said. "Well let me finish and provided I don't find any problems, you should be all set to go. And _you_ \--" His gaze snapped to Starscream, who was prowling impatiently around the edges of the room. "Stop _pacing._ " 

"I'm _anxious_ ," Starscream snapped back. "Hurry up and I won't be here to pace." 

"He has a point," Caelum said with a low chuckle and playful flick of his wings towards his mate, promising rewards for good behavior.

"Pit spawn," Ratchet muttered, and then was silent for another few breems before he unplugged. "All right, you're cleared, get out."

Caelum whirled even faster than his mate to grab Starscream's arm and left a bit faster than was dignified. Not than anyone could blame the poor mech. No flier liked to be grounded for three decaorns. Being stuck in a grounder frame for the entire war and more was inconceivable to most of them. For those who thought of Prowl as a mech, it was enough to bring smiles that he was finally showing signs of _life_. For Starscream, who loved him and hadn't thought of him as anything _other_ than just a mech for a very long time, it was a giddily joyful sight. 

"Be right behind you," he told Caelum as they reached the deck designed for flight frames to come and go from the medical compound. At the edge, Caelum paused and looked out and down. There wasn't any fear in his wings, but the nervousness was undeniable.

It was also, as far as Starscream was concerned, understandable. The first flight of any mecha was an uneasy thing, full of the new, untested, unknown and dangerous. That first step out into the sky under your own power was exhilarating as much from the fear as from finally being _free_.

Caelum's wings gave another twitch and the turbines began to spin, powering up to pre-flight levels as he ran a final check on his systems.

Starscream's systems began the same start-up sequences, but all of his attention was on listening to Caelum's. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ratchet--well, maybe a little--but the medic was a _grounder_ and Starscream would never be convinced of his ability to care for a flier's frame. So he listened for gaps, errors, strange rhythms or indication that the start-up was going in the wrong order somehow, and when he didn't perceive anything out of the ordinary, flared his field in anticipation. "Ready?" he purred, wings quivering in excitement. "Jump first, thrusters engage, then transform."

Caelum glanced over his shoulder at his lover and nodded. With no other apparent hesitation, he did as instructed. Freefalling for a fraction of a klik as his engines finished powering up, a processes that was noticeably slower than the fire-throwing ignition of the Seeker's, and then a transformation sequence that was, to both of them, painfully slow.

Starscream waited for a spark-stopping moment until the unsteady flight began and then jumped into the air after him, forcefully throttling himself back so he wouldn't completely outclass Caelum, and followed behind. His lover wasn't a prop-job, but the turbo-prop wasn't tremendously better when it came to pacing a Seeker, or the other way around. Even if Starscream hadn't been the fastest, most agile Seeker in history, Caelum's top speed wasn't that much above Starscream's lower limit. Even so, it was an incredible, undeniable rush to be in the air with his lover and both of them flying.

When he slid close enough to easily teek Caelum's field, it made Starscream's spark flutter. The joy there was perfect, a flier's spark free in the sky. Shameless of indulging what it was meant for, Caelum's spark guided his new frame in the winds with more skill than a new flier should have, but made sense given he hadn't lost his wings until after his adult upgrades.

"You're doing wonderfully," Starscream murmured, basking in the serenity he could feel creeping into that field, remembering the first time he'd flown and how _right_ it had felt. Caelum's joy was a long lost one, found again, and that just made it all the sweeter to teek. 

He was _free_. Finally, _finally_ free of the chains those grounders had linked through his frame, tied to the desk and the cause. Free from the desecration his family had committed on his frame--to clip a flier's wings because he'd refused a mate--free from the _ground_. "Ready to go higher?" Starscream asked with an eager thrill that he couldn't contain.

The surge of _yes_ crashed through Caelum's field well before his vocalizer responded and they angled upward. At a respectful distance Starscream was aware of other fliers coming in to check out the new member of their kind. Most were Seekers, but he saw the Aerialbots and others as well. Pings of welcome caressed comms in a way that didn't distract.

"I'd forgotten." Joy mixed with sadness in Caelum's voice. "Out of self preservation, I'd forgotten I should fly. I forgot what the wind was, that the sky existed. I wonder how many like me survived."

"I'm shocked that you did," Starscream said as he positioned himself on Caelum's wing. "I wouldn't have. You're strong." The other Seekers who were watching easily read the way his wingtip covered Caelum's, a claim and a warning all at once. Starscream was flying in the Action's position; anyone that tried to hurt this flier would have to go through him. 

It was a sacrilege, in many ways, but nothing that was a shock to see. Not after everything else that had come to light about these two mecha.

The warm flush of Caelum's field, recognition, acceptance, thanks and affection made everything worth it for Starscream.

Then they were climbing higher and Caelum's field began to shift in intent. He wanted his _mate_.

Starscream answered hungrily. They'd been soaring together for too long already without joining as far as he was concerned and he'd watched other couples interfacing not far from them, and he was eager for his turn. He banked away into a roll that left him belly-up and moved beneath Prowl, carefully edging up until their plating was just barely brushing. "Steady," he said as his magnets engaged, snapping their frames together with their panels pressed against each other. "That's the most important thing."

"I'll hold steady," Caelum promised. "Your lead."

Starscream tried not to moan too loudly at that. Caelum's panel was hot, and their covers scraped against each other as they slid away. His spike extended up into the heat of his mate's frame, greeted by a careful testing cycle. Caelum's equipment was all new, and Starscream was looking forward to trying it out. With a sharp snap, the locking mechanism engaged and shocks began pulsing through his spike.

Caelum moaned deeply and squeezed around the thick intrusion, rubbing the lining along the pleasurable length, trying to give as much as he got even as he knew he wouldn't outlast Starscream. Not like this, not this orn. It was too new, too intense and his processors wanted the rush of overload more intensely than he could recall ever wanting before. Even the wind against his wings was almost too much to stand, let alone the knowledge that he was locked with his lover far above the planet. It was overwhelming, and wonderful, and he found himself needing the stability from the magnets more than he'd thought he would. Direction and angle were afterthoughts to the pleasure of feeling Starscream inside. 

A sharp gust over his nosecone proved to be too much and he cried out as he shuddered in overload, held steady in the air only by the more experienced flier he was joined with. "S--Star--" he managed, gasping. 

Starscream didn't answer, just pulsed his bliss and pleasure back. He hadn't overloaded yet, but his spike was hot and the bursts of charge getting stronger. Caelum rippled again and squeezed down, and when he was once more close to overloading, Starscream screamed beneath him, his engines roaring as they cut through the air.

It triggered Caelum's second overload and he shuddered through the waves of current that coursed through their frames. Starscream stayed locked inside and they spun through the skies together, barely aware of anything other than each other and their pleasure.

* * *

Caelum made a smooth lap around the tower that contained the home he shared with Starscream. It had long ago been arranged to be ready for a dominant trine and took up an entire top floor, much of the space unused but marked for its intended function. Starscream refused to think of having anything less, and Prowl/Caelum had agreed that it was unlikely. Most Seekers still accorded Starscream a fair amount of respect for his wartime rank, even if he no longer held any military or political power. Among scientists, whom Starscream actively competed with, he was not at the top, but he held his own among the elite. With Prowl's, then Caelum's focus on the economy, investments and regular commissions for consulting and planning all manner of large, complex projects, they were financially very well off.

Even a vorn after regaining his wings, Caelum's spark still leapt every time he was in the air, and he flew for the joy of it even more than his mate. Starscream had once smirked and described him as a youngling freshly upgraded with flight engines. It wasn't that far from the truth.

As he came in for a respectably graceful landing, he focused on Starscream, curled up on one of the window benches with a datapad and walked over with a warm greeting trill that was pure Vosian.

Starscream whistle-clicked back to him, barely looking up, but his bare metal wings lifted in greeting. More than a vorn had passed by since his mourning flight and his finish had long since worn completely away, long enough ago that Caelum sometimes caught murmurs from the other Seekers about it, questioning whether Starscream was actually still grieving or not, and if he was just trying to better his personal image for the prolonged mourning period. 

Caelum knew it was genuine, and he said as much every time he caught hints of the gossip. As he came around his mate's shoulder to get a look at whatever he was working on, his wings lifted in interest. 

Starscream was looking at different shades red displayed next to each other. "What do you think, a darker shade?" he murmured distractedly. 

"I thought you looked very good in primary red and blue," Caelum purred as he slid his hands along the angular wings so different from his own. "Though I must admit there is a selfish appeal to matching our shades."

"I was thinking maybe more of a dark crimson, navy, and ivory," Starscream said, flicking through some of the other colors, all of them grouped in sets of three before he sighed and leaned his head back against Caelum. "As soon as I-I-I paint they'll swarm-swarm-swarm."

"Yes, and I will be on your wing to keep the worst of them away," Caelum trilled a promise of protection more suited to trine than mate. "You will have the best of those available. Strong, fast, smart and clever. Then you will feel much better." He hummed and thought about it, then reached over Starscream's shoulder to tap a few commands into the datapad and brought up an image of them side by side. Caelum remained in his current colors, deep blue and rich red, while Starscream's white, red and blue gradually shifted through the options, from pale enough to almost be all white to nearly black and white.

"I like the matching shades," Starscream said, scrolling back up through the gradients. He tapped on the screen, six times, and gave an exaggeratedly dramatic sigh. "Whatever it is, it must be suitably flashy."

"My Star, anything you wear will be suitably flashy," Caelum nuzzled him. "When do you plan to go?"

"Soon," Starscream murmured, and flicked the screen off, tilting his head back to look up at Caelum. "It's going to get a little chaotic around here for a while."

"I know," Caelum leaned down to kiss his lover, then slid around the triangular wing to straddle Starscream's lap and pressed close. "I won't have you to myself anymore." Wings flicked in an unconscious displeasure-acceptance that settled into a tense nervousness. "Starscream, have you ever wanted more with me?"

"Hmm?" Starscream glanced up, distracted. "More with you?"

"Something more permanent." Caelum traced his finger down Starscream's cockpit as his wings twitched nervously. "A bond."

Starscream cocked his head and his wings lifted in interest. "A bond," he said, musing. "I hadn't thought of it. Do you want to?"

"Yes," Caelum whispered as his field flared with _want_ and his wings quivered with desire for it.

Starscream smiled with some genuine amusement in his field. "All right," he said, and stroked Caelum's jaw. "When?"

"Soon," Caelum pressed into the touch. "Now, if you can."

"How literally do you mean that?" Starscream asked with a chuckle. "Obviously a significant portion of my life will involve you, but if a bond with a _flier_ is going to be any kind of problem for a trine, better to know who it will disturb now."

"Very literally," Caelum growled as he claimed a kiss and commanded his cockpit to slide to the side and his light flight armor to part. "I've wanted this for vorns."

"Well then," Starscream said, and pulled Caelum down for another kiss. When he pulled away again, his chamber was exposed. "I can understand that, I _am_ incredibly desirable. And no time like the present."

Caelum could barely manage more than a deep moan of desire-excitement as he scrambled to put the desire to bond at the front of his thoughts and focus on creating a lasting connection between their sparks as their chambers opened and eager sparks, one bright gold, the other nearly white ice blue, reached for the familiar comfort of the other.

~Caelum,~ Starscream sighed when the merge settled, easily and comfortably. ~Last chance to back out,~ he said, with the hint of a smirk through his field.

~Never,~ Caelum moaned as he relaxed and allowed just how much he wanted this and why to flow between them. How much Starscream had come to mean to him. How much he wanted to always be together. How badly he wanted to be able to support Starscream and any creation he carried by merging and offering his energy to carrier and creation. How frightened he was of Starscream's need to trine overriding _them_. How guilty he felt about it.

It confused Starscream, but in evidence of one of the ways the Seeker had grown over the vorns, he made a genuine effort to understand as the light from their sparks danced and mingled. ~Are you afraid they will mean more to me?~ he asked.

~No,~ Caelum murmured an honest truth. ~I'm afraid they could _take_ you from me. They are Seekers, your trine. I'm just an Aerial lover.~

~ _Trine_ ,~ Starscream repeated, emphasizing the glyph like it should on its own soothe Caelum's fears. ~Trines are for stability, and support. If they are _my_ trine they will support _you_. For being my lover. They cannot take me from you because they do not have the same part of me.~

~I know,~ his shame flickered again as deep gratitude for the effort came across far stronger. ~Emotions do not always play by logic or rules. So long, so many lives ... there is no logic to my fear of losing you. It simply is,~ he tried to explain something in his spark that refused to listen to anything, but they could both feel that it was listening, and believing, what Starscream said. Trines supported. Trines cared. For trine to try to separate them would be extremely abnormal and could break the trine itself.

Caelum wasn't abusive. That was the only time a trine might act, but it was very rare. Seekers were too socially dependent on each other in large groups to remain with one that hurt them.

~Then I will just have to show you,~ Starscream decided, and reinforced that idea of the trine supporting Caelum _because_ he was important to Starscream. ~Over time. And nothing will be able to break _this_ ,~ he purred as he brushed the connected center of their sparks, the connection that wouldn't be able to break so long as they were in their frames, not after this merge.

Caelum's wings shuddered as he keened in bliss that had nothing to do with pleasure. The sensation of completeness, of being _whole_ washed through him and tore apart deep seated insecurities and expectations of rejection in a riot of pain he could only feel as ecstasy. One spark, two lives, he willingly and eagerly gave everything of himself to this and reveled in how much more it really was.

Intimacy. 

Bliss. 

_Trust._

That was the true prize, the trust they had been able to build together. Enough to join their sparks together. 

~ _Caelum!_ ~ Starscream keened, wrapping his arms around his mate's waist and holding tightly.

~ _My Star!_ ~ Caelum replied as thought was whited out by the union that could not be undone. He clutched his mate tightly, joyful to share the moment and eternity together. It was everything he'd longed for and so much more.

They were both trembling as they came back to their frames, their sparks separated and in their chambers and their chests closed. Despite that, they could both feel the connection, the sense of remaining merged, but on a low level and Caelum pressed against that sense of _Starscream_ inside him with giddy delight that calmed things inside him he had long thought were simply _him_.

It pressed right back, as Starscream did the same, tilting his head back to look up at Caelum. "There," he said, very matter-of-factly. "I'm glad you suggested that."

"As am I," Caelum trilled joyfully as he snuggled into his bonded's arms, purring with a contentment that radiated out from the core of his spark as the emotional wounds of rejection and worthlessness as anything more than a tool were smoothed over far faster than they had been created and scarred over. "Is there anyone you are looking at for trine?"

"Mm. There are a few partial Neutral trines," Starscream said. "Some of the Autobots are not terrible. We'll see. I need to get painted first, though."

"After that, will you _fly_ with me?" Caelum trilled, hopeful and wanting to show off his new status.

"Yes," Starscream purred, running his hands up Caelum's back, up to caress his wings. "It's the only proper way to announce it."

* * *

Caelum felt Starscream coming home long before he ever heard him landing on the open balcony, and when he looked up, his spark skipped in his chest. 

Starscream gave a pleased purr when he felt it and held his arms out. "Do you like it, then?" he asked, turning to show off the fresh paint. Not the same brash primaries he'd worn during wartime, but richer hues that were just as vivid against each other. The biggest change was his wings, which were now nearly an inverse of what they'd been before--a rich crimson with an ivory band around the outside edge, with a thinner one tracing the same path in the middle.

"Very much," Caelum rumbled deeply as he swept in to embrace his mate and claim a kiss that quickly grew heated. "I'm surprised you made it home without being tackled."

"I took a transport most of the way," Starscream admitted with a shudder for having stooped to using grounder transportation. "If we're going to announce this," he touched Caelum's chest, "It should be today."

"Now?" Caelum purred, pressing into the touch and wanting it very badly. He'd researched all he could, calculated how to modify the dance so his frame could handle it. He was as ready as he would be, and he _wanted_ it.

"Mhmm," Starscream hummed as he drew Caelum back with him, leading him out to the balcony. He had done a similar amount of research and preparation, but on how to change his speed and movement in order to not leave Caelum behind. "It will be the last bit of peace we have for a while," he said, as they jumped into the air and transformed together.

"I'm ready for them," Caelum promised, his joy at flying with his mate singing across their fresh bond and shining in every movement and quiver of his frame. "I want you to have a good trine."

Starscream pressed his field out warmly before adjusting to rocket almost straight up into the air. Caelum followed, their bellies pressed nearly flush until they peeled away and looped in a large circle that brought them back together. They repeated that several times, until Starscream was sure that they had been noticed and were being watched, and he trilled to signal the next phase of the dance. 

The opening looping was consistent across all of the Seekers' dance language, an announcement that those involved wanted to be watched, and whatever came after would likely be of interest. In this case, it would probably cause a small riot. 

Starscream cut and spun to angle his way back to Caelum when another Seeker joined him at his wing. Starscream felt the growl and possessive flare across the bond and gave only a small wiggle of warning to his new companion that this was not an open dance. It was all the warning the violet Seeker got before a heavier, sturdier frame was coming down on him, engines rumbling that Starscream was not yet available to fly with anyone else.

The Seeker, a former Autobot, of course--it was only to be expected that such uncouth behavior come from one of them--gave an indignant squawk of protest that Caelum completely ignored as he continued to press for the ground. There was a brief flurry of struggle and movement, and then the other flier rocketed away, sufficiently insulted. 

~Well said,~ Starscream purred to his mate as he watched the undignified retreat. ~That should get the message across to anyone else trying to cut in.~

~I hope so,~ Caelum replied with a smug satisfaction at his victory, his first in the air, and did a shivering barrel roll to settle his armor and himself. Back in the dance, he came flush with Starscream's belly, pressing just close enough to mimic a mating as they began a slow clockwise turn, noses pointed to the sky.

The bonding dance was a smooth, graceful one that moved around a center sphere, tracing lines over it to represent a spark chamber. Every move was repeated twice, to signify the joining of two sparks. This one was modified slightly for Caelum, but the meaning of it was untouched and there was no mistaking what their announcement was. As more and more points began to show up on his sensors, Starscream couldn't help but preen. 

Their dance was, for this moment in time, the absolute center of the surviving flier world. Even the non-Seeker fliers who lived in the area were gathering to watch. It was only right. Friend or enemy, two of the most powerful mecha during the war were publicly announcing a bonding that put to rest all question of how serious their relationship was.

As the dance neared its end, Starscream felt the building desire to merge from the other side of the bond, but with a very different intent than he expected.

His mate wished to kindle.

~It will complicate things, if I'm carrying while I'm searching,~ he said. It wasn't a refusal, but he had questions about what Caelum wanted, and when and why.

~I know. I could not challenge them if I was,~ Caelum's engines moaned in response to his desires as he struggled to tramp them down. ~Soon though? When you've trined.~

~'If you were?'~ Starscream asked, ignoring the question. ~You can't carry, can you? The tac-net stayed in.~

~It has an incremental off switch now,~ Caelum tried to keep the shiver that went all the way to his wingtips from disrupting his flight. ~I can turn it off. There is a risk; if I'm stressed it might turn on despite my intent, though I should not be that stressed anymore.~

And then Starscream realized that he was feeling more than just a desire to kindle coming from Caelum, he was feeling a desire to _carry_. ~I would keep you safe,~ he swore as they came together in the final, united upwards spin through the air. At the zenith they transformed into root mode, Starscream holding Caelum as they hovered. His cockpit pulled away and Caelum's mirrored the movement without hesitation.

~I know,~ Caelum moaned as their sparks reached out in a joyful reunion. ~I trust you.~

~Would you allow other Seekers to contribute to its protoform development, or only me?~ Starscream asked, wings shivering with pleasure.

~Others, if they are worthy of _our_ creation,~ Caelum answered, sharing a sense of what he considered worthy -- gifted, smart or of exceptional frame quality. Traits Caelum found desirable enough to deal with interfacing without desire. While selective, it included enough of the surviving Seekers that the sparkling would be considered as having a normal range of frame sires.

Starscream purred, nuzzling his mate. He hadn't expected that answer, and he'd been prepared to accept the oddity of the sparkling only having a single Seeker frame creator. ~Only the best,~ he promised. ~I wouldn't dream of letting any others even consider touching you.~

~They can consider, they just can't have,~ Caelum trilled as the merge deepened. ~Only the best are worthy of our creation. Just as only the best are worthy of your trine.~

~I could not agree with you more,~ Starscream said, grinning. ~Would you like the sparkling to belong to us? There is nothing saying it must go to my trine, and you do not have one.~

~Yes.~ Caelum shivered as the spark merge began to spill over into their frames, causing visible energy to dance between and around them. ~ _Ours_.~ Mingled with the statement was that he didn't object to the trine helping. He'd welcome them to be part of their creation's upbringing, he wanted their creations to have as normal an upbringing as possible, but when all was said and done, those he carried would belong to Caelum and Starscream, not Starscream's Order.

~Ours,~ Starscream echoed, sounding amazed at the idea. He'd never thought about a sparkling really being _his_ before. Not without a trine. ~What a strange new world we live in.~ His wings trembled from the charge that was running through every part of him, building every moment.

~Very strange,~ Caelum agreed, though it was with a strong sense of joy, welcome and wonder at it. It was that emotional blend that faded to the blinding bliss of a spark overload and the keening cry that announced it before gravity began to pull them down. Automated systems kept them from crashing as they lowered to the ground and settled there, holding each other tightly. Starscream was the first to lift his head and look around. "Oh dear," he sighed dramatically, at the number of Seekers that had landed with them and were now watching and waiting. "I-I-I seem to have caught some attention."

~We knew it would happen. It is time for them to court you.~ Caelum kissed him gently and continued the embrace as his gaze swept around those gathered. Towards the back and in the sky were trines. They were there just to watch. Those closer were singles or pairs, Autobot, Decepticon and Neutral, and were waiting for the opening to try and court for a trine. Without even realizing it Caelum's wings lifted in a blatant warning to all that he had a say in who his mate would trine with and he intended to use that right.

Starscream smirked as everyone shifted when his wings canted. "How I hate being the center of attention," he drawled, and stretched his arms up over his head in a carefully calculated display before drawing Caelum into a lazy kiss. ~Ready for this to start?~

~As I will ever be,~ Caelum smiled slightly. ~You need this,~ he added warmly, speaking of how willing he was when his mate needed something. "Who is worthy of you?"

"I guess we'll find out," Starscream purred as he stood up and jumped into the sky, transforming and rocketing straight up into the sky, far faster than Caelum could even hope to follow. In the next moment the roar of jet engines firing surrounded the Aerial as the trineless Seekers took off after him. 

~I won't let anyone come close to touching me today,~ Starscream said. ~I want to see who can keep up. Stay and watch, or meet you at home?~

~Oh, I intend to watch,~ Caelum rumbled eagerly and he leapt into the sky, though his trajectory was less directly following and more to catch an occasional look at them. ~You're amazing in the air. I _want_ you when you're done playing with them. In the sky for all to see.~

~I can manage that,~ Starscream chuckled, and spun and dove, holding the attention of almost everyone in the sky. 

_Almost_ everyone. 

A form that Caelum knew well came level with him in the air, uninterested in the chase. ::He'll like this part,:: Thundercracker said. ::He never really got it the first time.::

::He does adore being the center of attention,:: Caelum replied with tolerant affection. ::Are there any that you know should be pulled out?::

::There are a few I'd avoid but I want to see him figure it out on his own,:: Thundercracker said as they tilted into a long, shallow bank around the main hub of action. ::Obviously no one will be able to keep up with him, but it's important that they come close. Skywarp...:: The blue Seeker chuckled. ::He was the best Action Starscream could have had. Mostly I wanted to see how you're taking it all in, if anything's bothering you and he hasn't noticed.::

::I cannot say I am thrilled to share him,:: Caelum admitted quietly. ::Though I would not say it is bothering me. He has been very aware of the differences and including me in trine selection. It's been good. Still a bit strange, but good. He's really quite considerate when he doesn't feel the need to posture all the time, though it's still _Starscream_ ,:: he snickered quietly. ::I'm glad that Jazz accepted the Protector of Cybertron title so you did not need to wait for your own trining.::

::So am I,:: Thundercracker said. ::I don't think it would have ended well for either of us if I'd pretended that whole time. I'm glad to hear it has been good for you. I worry about him taking advantage.::

::We balance well in that,:: Caelum said, his tone fond and a little exasperated on the edge. ::We are both natural manipulators with some need to have power. It makes for interesting negotiations. My tac-net still objects when it believes an agreement is too one-sided.::

::Good,:: Thundercracker said, and teeked almost amused for a moment as he watched the action that had moved below them. ::If any of them give _you_ problems, come to me.::

::I will,:: Caelum trilled his thanks, deeply grateful that Thundercracker had moved on enough to support him. ::If you wish to have the first Seekerling, you may wish to focus on it. It will not be long for Starscream.::

Thundercracker chuckled. ::Really, now. Well, Brainstorm is eager enough but I'm also _busy_ enough. If he wants the attention of having the first, he can have it with my blessing.::

::Thank you,:: Caelum's relief showed in tone, field and almost his frame. ::I want a creation badly enough it will spill over into him. I would expect that when we kindle it will increase the likelihood he will with the trine.::

:: _You_ plan to carry,:: Thundercracker said with some surprise. ::That's interesting. Who would it belong to?::

::Starscream and myself. Those he carries are for the trine. Though I expect that any I carry will be raised with the trine, just as I intend to be part of raising those he carries.:: Caelum hoped he explained the odd arrangement well enough.

::It's ... unusual but I guess there isn't anything wrong with it,:: Thundercracker finally said after musing it over for several moments. ::Mating with a non-Seeker is unusual enough in and of itself, though. Make sure his trine understands beforehand.::

::They will,:: Caelum said with the kind of fierce determination that had carried his side through the war. ::Such things are not to be surprises. They are too important. A trine at odds with the bonded mate of one of them is not going to remain stable for long.::

::You have been studying,:: Thundercracker said, with a strange sort of pride.

::Yes. This is my culture now, my life. I would incorporate into it as smoothly as possible, given what I was and am,:: Caelum told him. ::I am a tactician, in the end. Knowledge will always be power to me.::

::I wish you a bright spark,:: Thundercracker said. ::And I'm glad you're doing well. I'm sure this will be quite the interesting drama to watch unfold, and if I know Starscream, it will be very public. I'm sure I'll run into you again.::

::Clear skies and fair winds,:: Caelum replied as the blue Seeker peeled away.

* * *

Caelum stood, _glaring_ , at the thing in Starscream's hand. They'd returned home after an evening flight to find it in the berthroom, set carefully on Starscream's small worktable. The Seeker had workstations scattered throughout the residence, his way of managing his processors' erratic and oftentimes chaotic thinking sequences, enabling him to dive into work whenever an idea hit. It was the opposite of organized, and Caelum sometimes wondered if Starscream was aware of how much it held him back in his research. He suspected so, from the coping mechanisms he frequently saw the Seeker employ. 

"I wish you would put that down," he said tensely. "At least until I've scanned it more thoroughly." 

Starscream flicked a wing at him three times as he continued to examine the crystal. It was the same color as his optics, and definitely _hadn't_ been here when they'd left.

"Someone left it here and I will know who." Caelum insisted as he reached for the crystal to take it.

Starscream moved it reflexively out of reach and took one more moment to look at it before he handed it over. "I don't think it's explosive," he said dryly.

"Crystals can be many things other than explosive," Caelum pointed out as he took it to the nearest of Starscream's better scanning systems to determine what it was and what it contained. "If it was explosive it would have already gone off."

"I just _said_ I don't think it's explosive," Starscream said as he followed behind. "Besides, the others all scanned as just crystals."

"I was agreeing with you. _What_ others?" Caelum glared at his bonded while the machine did its job of determining what the object was.

Starscream cocked his head at him, then reached into subspace. "Balcony, lab, washrack," he said, setting out navy, gold, and clear crystals. "...I didn't tell-tell-tell you about those?" he asked, his field cringing.

"No," Caelum growled, ignoring the new one in favor of examining the older three. "Who are they from?"

Starscream shrugged his wings. "They're tokens, we'll find out eventually."

Caelum knew that and the irate flick of his wings said so. "Anyone who goes about it this way is best avoided."

"Why?" Starscream asked curiously as he picked the yellow one up to examine, though his wings canted in acknowledgement of his mate's choice in the matter. "It demonstrates a reasonably useful skill set."

"It also is the act of a cowardly mind. One that knows they are not worthy on their own merits and must resort to getting you hooked before revealing themselves," Caelum grumbled. "It's what a spy or thief does."

Crimson optics brightened in sudden realization and Starscream immediately set the crystal back down. "I will leave them where I find them from now on," he told Caelum

"Thank you," the Aerial settled his wings and slid close to his bonded to catch him in a soft kiss. "You were right, they're just crystals. Though I'm going to spend the rest of the orn improving our security system."

"Oh-oh- _oh_ , dear," Starscream sighed dramatically. "The _entire_ orn?" His fingers danced with mischievous intent.

Caelum took a step back and tapped Starscream's cockpit firmly. "And I will keep working on it until I catch the agent. I _will not_ have the safety of our creations at risk for a little fun."

Starscream frowned and his wings twitched, but after a moment he just gave an exasperated sigh and waved his hand. He knew that tone. "Fine, work. You know where to find me."

* * *

Even if he hadn't been the only available Vision, Starscream was certain he'd still be the center of attention when he walked into the cafe at the science complex with Caelum on his arm. They made a stunning pair and he knew it. His wings flaunted it, and he trilled softly when Caelum's fluttered in a near-matching display of pride in his bonded. They were enjoying an afternoon together--true to his word, Caelum had been working rigorously on their security system, and after yet _another_ token had been slipped in after his first set of upgrades, Starscream had barely seen him at all. 

But they had some time to spare and they had just reached an empty table when another Seeker joined them, slipping into a third chair and looking at Starscream smugly. "Hope you don't mind if I join." 

"Not me you have to ask," Starscream said, frowning at him as he tilted his head to his mate, who was nearly vibrating with hostility.

The Seeker--Tread Bolt, former Autobot, Starscream finally placed him--frowned in some confusion as he looked at Caelum. "Er, sure, yeah. Hope _you_ don't mind if I join."

"I mind a great deal," Caelum hissed. "Your kind are not welcome."

"My-- _what?_ " Treat Bolt said, as his wings went up into almost matching hostility. "How _dare_ you," he snarled, and looked at Starscream. "You take that from an _Aerial?_ "

Starscream looked puzzled.

~He's _Jazz's_ mech.~ Caelum's hatred briefly boiled over until he forced himself to calm and focused inward, to work out why he was _that_ volatile. Certainly Tread Bolt had been an irritant whenever he'd been stationed nearby, and Caelum had even less tolerance for Jazz and Jazz's agents than Prowl had, but he knew this was a bit much.

Starscream's wings flicked in comprehension. "The only thing _I_ take from him is his spike and occasional orders if I'm in the right mood," he said. "Not sure what _you've_ done to upset him so much but he doesn't want you here, so go." 

Tread Bolt looked stunned for a moment, then a flicker of desperation went through his field before it calmed again. "I left you tokens," he said. "I'm a good Action, surely you realized I would be, to get past that security system." 

"I will not have one of _Jazz's_ agents in my home," Caelum snarled as his wings flared in an open threat; he was willing to fight for it.

"It actually isn't _your_ choice," Tread Bolt snarled back. 

"It actually is," Starscream said coldly, wings held high in a steady warning. "I refuse your tokens and your offer. Seek your trine elsewhere." 

"But..." Tread Bolt looked at Starscream in shock, then turned on Caelum. "You were the one to insist that what we did during the war can't be held against a mech."

"If you came before me for a job, I would not," Caelum said firmly, well aware they were the center of attention and this scene was going to get told to _everyone_. "This is about living in my home, siring my bonded's creations and tending to my creations. This is about whether I can trust you with my bonded and our creations. I do not and I will not."

"But you'd take a Decepticon," Tread Bolt hissed.

"Some of them," Caelum did not deny the truth. "I bonded with one after all."

"The _Pit_ with this," Tread Bolt said as he stood, and gave Starscream one last look. "If he wasn't here would your answer be the same?"

"Yes," Starscream flicked his wings in a more polite warning than his bonded gave, even as he smirked internally at the reaction the continued defiance created in Caelum. Before Tread Bolt could think of trying anything else Caelum's engines roared to life to power a lunge at the former SpecOps Seeker.

He screeched and quickly backed away but not in time to stop Caelum's strike from connecting, _hard_ , into his cockpit. He managed to get away from the snarling Aerial and beat a hasty, undignified retreat, with Caelum on his heels the entire way. It wasn't until Starscream whistle-clicked to call his mate back to him that the focus was broken and Caelum returned. 

Starscream reached up to stroke Caelum's wings and found that all the effort he'd put into building their relationship rewarded when his mate calmed quickly from anger to relaxing into the touch. "I don't think we'll be seeing more of him," he said. 

"Good," Caelum relaxed into a purr of contentment drawn far more from Starscream's touch than having vanquished his foe. "Energon?"

"Yes-yes-yes," Starscream said as he pulled Caelum into his lap and signaled for their drinks.

* * *

At lunch the next orn Caelum and Starscream were joined by a pair of Seekers, Crest and Windcatcher. They hadn't held high rank in the Decepticon army, but they were also the only untrined Seekers that had been Decepticons. Their Vision had been lost three vorns before in an accident. He'd crashed and not even Ratchet could save his guttering spark despite the medic's cursing about how the physical damage shouldn't have caused him to gutter.

Among the Seekers, it was fairly well accepted that the Vision had only held out so his trine could survive the war. He'd crashed and guttered because it was his time. He'd seen too much in his life and the quiet grief of his surviving trinemates was so different from the shock of an unexpected loss that many suspected they'd known what was going to happen.

Starscream was warm to them, and there was a definite draw between the three Seekers. They shared a similar culture and history, and Caelum could clearly see the attraction from it. 

They didn't seem sure about Caelum, though, and kept glancing warily at him. He wasn't sure if it was because he was an Aerial, the rather explosive way he'd gotten rid of the Seeker-spy, or because of what he had been not so long ago, an Autobot grounder. Regardless he made the effort to be neutrally warm. The truth was he wasn't out to pick Starscream's trine. He was simply out to ensure that he didn't object to them. It was what a bonded mate did. It was not the easiest of lines to explain for Caelum though, and Starscream wasn't helping.

The familiar light steps of a mech Caelum had genuinely hoped he'd never have to encounter again made his wings twitch in irritation.

Starscream's optics were focused past him, locked on the same mech. He looked at the hopeful trine and thanked them for stopping by--a clear dismissal. 

They looked frustrated, but complied. 

Jazz waited until they had cleared before stepping in. "Heard about a thing," he said as he sat down.

"That I chased off your agent yesterday." Caelum said tersely, not trying to hide his displeasure at Jazz's presence in the least.

"Yep, that's the thing," Jazz said, frowning. He was silent for a beat, pondering Caelum, before he leaned forward earnestly, elbows resting on the table. "What happened with us, mech?"

Caelum glared but held the worst of his anger in check. Jazz might not lead the planet anymore, but he was still a very powerful mech, politically. "The war ended. I am no longer required to act as though I find the presence of your agents and your tactics acceptable. I am no longer required to deal with you."

"You liked my agents and my tactics well enough when they worked for you," Jazz said, with a glance at Starscream. "I thought you liked _me_ well enough, at one time."

Caelum just stared for a moment, then flicked his wings in a general dismissal of his own reaction. "When they worked for me is the key there. I was obligated not to alienate them, or you, while that was true. Prime made it extremely clear to me that it did not matter what I thought of you or your methods, I was to remain civil. I did so for the good of the Autobots. Your agents were needed and my feelings about it were not relevant. Now I am free of that requirement to treat thieves, saboteurs, murders and spies as mecha I respect."

"You're bonded to a mech guilty of at least three of those, confirmed," Jazz said.

"Yes," Caelum confirmed. "And I myself am guilty of far worse. None of which was our _function_ that we continue to ply, unlike you and your agents. I do not trust you. I never have. That is reason enough not to trust those who answer to you."

"Is this the Enforcer speaking?" Jazz asked.

"What does that matter?" Caelum scowled at him.

"I'm just trying to figure out if you hate me because I wanted to kill Starscream, or because of what I was," Jazz said, frowning. "I want to know if there's a way to fix it."

"Because of what you _are_ ," Caelum hissed. "Why fix it? What do you want of me? I've already abdicated all power, the mech you knew as Prowl is gone. What are you trying to take this time?"

" _Nothing_ ," Jazz said, frustrated. "Why fix it? Because I thought we were _friends_ , or something like it. Because this world is Pit to live in."

"Then Prowl was a far better actor than he gave himself credit for," Caelum shrugged his wings. "He was your CO, the CTO and a mech who was entirely too aware of how little others thought of him except as a tool. If this world is a Pit to live in, you made that Pit for yourself and no one is demanding you stay. Prowl didn't, even if he did leave much of himself behind. If you want friends, start with mecha that might believe your lies. I'm not one of them. You have _never_ been trustworthy as a mech and you know it. You _flaunt_ your ability to talk anyone into anything. Did you actually expect a tactician not to take note of how you played others, and even him?"

Jazz leaned back, then sighed. "No," he said, and shrugged. "So that's it, then. I'll tell anyone who ever worked for me to keep away from you."

"That would be appreciated," Caelum said, though he didn't hide that he didn't believe it would be true. "When you find someone that values who you are rather than what you can do for them, you might understand the difference. Until then, enjoy the Pit you created for yourself."

Jazz shook his head. "A betrayal that ends well is _still_ a betrayal," he said as he stood. 

"Yes," Caelum said coldly, a reminder that he'd been betrayed by his so-called friends and allies in this as well, and he'd been betrayed first.

It stung Jazz, that rebuttal and the pointed statement that Caelum did not ask for or expect forgiveness for his betrayals, because he wasn't giving forgiveness to those who'd betrayed him. Instead of trying to say anything more to the mech he'd thought of as a friend and misread so badly that it created this hatred, Jazz looked at Starscream. "Seek well," he said in Vosian, a traditional blessing.

Starscream inclined his helm and gracefully canted his wings. Jazz left, leaving them alone again. Starscream took Caelum's hand in his and squeezed, offering what comfort he could. "I'd thought the challenge and his defeat were designed to curb the hostility," he murmured.

"It did. I don't want to rip his spark out and stuff him in a detention center anymore," Caelum sank into the offering. His anger faded quickly to expose what the real issue was, and that he still felt deep emotional pain from all he'd faced from his own side during the war and from society in general before that. It was pain had been built up over nearly his entire lifetime and most of the targets were long out of reach. It wasn't going to dim quickly. Jazz was more a target of convenience than the core, though there was no mistaking that the animosity towards him was personal and genuine. "I can't believe he actually thought we were _friends_ ," he hissed, somewhere between sickened at the idea, horrified that he'd given the impression and pitying Jazz for thinking it.

"You worked together for a long time," Starscream said, and circled his thumb over Caelum's palm three times. "Shared horrors. He ended up alone somehow." ~Say the word and I'll go hunt him down,~ he purred. 

Caelum's spark leapt at the prospect, at truly _punishing_ the mech that had tried to take all he had now from him. But he couldn't. He couldn't risk Starscream, and privately he was horrified that he even considered the offer. His Enforcer coding was well and truly corrupt. It had to be.

~Love ... no,~ Caelum murmured, reaching out across the bond to try to express and explain all that went into the choice. Including the very cruel part of him that recognized that forcing Jazz to live with what he'd done was the best revenge. Also was the simple fact that Jazz's deactivation would do nothing to help him heal. Only time and Starscream, acceptance, would do that.

~I am a murderer, you know,~ Starscream said, looking into Caelum's optics. ~He's right on that point. Just because we all had our charges wiped doesn't mean we didn't commit the crimes. Or that we wouldn't again.~

~I know. You have seen my spark. You know what I am capable of, if prompted correctly. What I would do to protect you, and by extension your trine and our creations,~ Caelum said, emotionally drained by the past breem. ~He cared about revenge more than my happiness,~ and there was guilt for thinking of it that way, for caring about his own happiness more than victory. Humiliation that he valued himself more than others and that he hated someone for pointing it out. ~I can't forgive that. Not anytime soon at least.~

~You deserve to think of your own happiness,~ Starscream insisted. ~All mecha do. Your family taught you it wasn't important, those _Autobots_ used it against you to keep you trapped. No, don't forgive that.~

~I ended the war and somehow it was a crime because I got to be happy in the process,~ Caelum snarled, the unresolved anger at that bubbling up briefly and showing in his wings enough to make those nearest him watch warily. Whatever reputation Prowl had, Caelum was known best for his outbursts. ~The war was over, and no one, not one Autobot, was happy that I had a mate and a chance at being happy. _Decepticon Seekers_ welcomed me when my own side would not.~ He trembled with how much that hurt. He'd given them everything, every moment of his existence, taken every abuse and insult thrown his way and when he finally reached for a little happiness, just a taste of what they supposedly were fighting for and had the right to, it was wrong enough he'd been ostracized. Then the worst of them wanted to be friends now that the damage was done and it was obvious they'd lost and he had kept what made him happy.

Anger-pain flared brightly again before settling once more. Not even as Caelum could he sustain such intense emotions for long.

Starscream watched sadly, feeling and absorbing all of it. ~You were their sacrifice so they could feel good about peace with Decepticons. If you were nice to one first, they could blame it on you. You're the traitor. That's what you'll always be. That's what _we'll_ always be.~

~Then it's good that we have each other,~ Caelum sank into the understanding with relief for the support and drawing on it to strength his resolve to cope with the pain. ~I know how to be an outcast.~ Even if he didn't know how to be this kind of outcast, the kind with a mate, creations and lovers. An outcast with a _family_.

~You won't be an outcast from us,~ Starscream said, meaning his Seekers. ~We'll fly the long way home today.~

Caelum ducked his helm as his wings quivered with thanks. "I would like that," he spoke out loud, giving those around a vocal cue that all was well. He was still emotional and wrung out, but his temper was gone for the time being and now he had a much better understanding of where the anger and explosive rage came from. What he understood, he could control and that simple truth of his existence allowed him to relax. ~What do you think of Crest and Windcatcher?~

~They are suitable,~ Starscream said, and his optics focused far past Caelum. ~They don't deserve to have an incomplete trine, but then, neither do many of the others.~ He shrugged his wings. ~I'd rather not think about it more right now.~

~Then finish our energon quickly and get in a little air time before work?~ Caelum suggested softly, his spark sending a warm reminder of how much better they both always felt with the wind flowing over their wings.

"I'd like that," Starscream purred and knocked back the rest of his cube with practiced ease. He stood and offered a hand to his bonded and felt every optic on the pair as Caelum accepted with the soft trilling of being happy at the attention he was receiving from his bonded mate.

* * *

As well as he hid it in public, being trineless was starting to take a much heavier toll on Starscream's processing abilities, and Caelum hoped that his mate would choose soon. When asked why it was affecting Starscream so much more than most of the other trineless Seekers, Ratchet had only been able to shrug and make guesses about a frame and software type he had never been trained to understand. His best guess, the one that Caelum tended to agree with, was that the Seeker's older age and the fact that he had been trined for most of his adult life made him ill-suited to cope without one. 

At least his search for a new trine seemed to be closing in on a few remaining choices--all of them previously-established Order-Action pairs who had recently lost a Vision. Starscream didn't seem interested in having to build up everything from scratch and had immediately gravitated towards pairs that were already well-established. 

"You-you-you'd think this would be-be-be more-more-more fun," he'd sighed one night, looking at all of the tokens. "Some-some- _some_ how it-it-it, it-it-it, it-it-it--" He'd broken off, shaken his head sharply, three times, and gone quiet. 

Caelum understood. Starscream wasn't just choosing a new trine for himself, he was deciding who to save. There were already talks about what to do for the trineless Seekers who were beginning to glitch as badly as he was, protocols being put into place for medical stasis for those who needed a Vision when there simply weren't any and wouldn't be any for at least three centuries, if not longer. Twenty-seven vorns into the peace and still no one had kindled. As far as Caelum knew, he and Starscream were the only ones actively planning to have a sparkling. As eager as everyone had seemed when peace was still only looming, _fear_ to bring new life into an uncertain world seemed to be too powerful now.

Caelum watched quietly while Starscream circled the table three times, looking at everything that was set out before they heard the announcing chirp from Crest and Windcatcher. Based purely on how many times Starscream had responded favorably to these two, they seemed to be his early choice, but there were two other partial trines that hadn't quite been ruled out, so this dinner was an important one for all of them. 

Caelum himself had some questions to pose of them, primarily about his desires for integrating with the trine and the creations that would come very soon. He was also mildly stressed by the unknowns and new involved in this meal. While it was to be casual, largely a serve yourself from what was on the table affair, Starscream had emphasized that Caelum was to be his equal and how to act like it enough that he knew it was important, and important in a way that Caelum didn't completely understand.

So he stood at his bonded's side at the lift door when it opened and greeted the pair on the other side. Windcatcher was the dominant one, his pale blue paint with equally pale green and gleaming silver trim making him appear completely white at a distance, stood out markedly from his brightly painted Action, a mech that sported primary yellow with dark green and vibrant red trim. It wasn't lost on any of them that the red, the only color either of them had in common with the bonded pair at the moment, matched the exact shade the Vision now wore.

Starscream greeted them with a Vosian trill and all four settled down to the dishes that had been put together--a far cry from what would have been standard before the war--talking idly about nothing too serious for the first part of the meal. 

"Why is it Caelum now?" Crest asked suddenly, for the first time focusing on the Aerial.

Caelum made the effort to display his willingness to talk about himself with his wings, showing that he was more willing than he really was because he knew how important it was that these mecha know him and his past to be sure it would work. 

"It became a custom for me to take a new designation with each major rebuild, separating my new existence and function from my previous ones," he explained briefly while Starscream watched carefully for the pair's responses.

For now, it was curiosity.

"How many have you had?" Crest asked, well aware that he was treading into subjects that were sensitive and only open to discussion because of the circumstances.

"Five official, one unofficial," Caelum answered.

Crest and Windcatcher glanced at each other before looking back. "Obviously you don't have a problem with all former Decepticons," Windcatcher said, "But is that a rule, or is Starscream the exception?"

"It is the norm," Caelum flicked his wings to back up the claim. "I judge based on current actions more than the past. The exceptions are all very personal in nature and few have betrayed me on that level. I hate the mech, not their former faction."

Wings flicked in unison to indicate their satisfaction with that answer.

"Obviously we're the ones who need to prove ourselves here," Windcatcher said. "And let's be-be-be realistic about what's happening, we're desperate enough to take _Starscream_ as a-a-a Vision. But if we do, do you understand and accept his obligations to his trine?"

"Yes," Caelum inclined his wings as he met their gaze. "Any creation he carries is the trine's, he'll fly with his trine, recharge often with his trine, and his income goes first to support his trine. I intend to be more integrated into his trine than many mates are, historically," he continued in a polite but necessary warning. "I would recharge with the trine, fly with the trine at times, support the trine, help raise its creations. In return I expect support and help when I need it, and the trine's influence with the creations I carry despite that they will remain mine."

"Since you don't have a trine of your own, it's expected that you would integrate more-more-more," Windcatcer said. "That all sounds reasonable." 

Caelum relief was felt over the bond with Starscream, but didn't reach his frame. Instead his wings gave a smooth motion of agreement and pleasure that such fundamentals were agreeable to all. Then he moved on to the next subject. "You should also be aware that the only reason we have not kindled yet is because we need to focus all our energy on finding the right trinemates. I wish to have creations. That desire is likely to influence Starscream and the probability that he will kindle with his trine in the first vorn is near eighty percent. If we fail to kindle within the first metacycle, the probability reaches ninety-eight percent. Are you prepared for that?"

"Absolutely," Windcatcher said firmly. "We want the same thing. Do you understand that we will want more than just cultural influence on any that you carry, if you expect our support?"

"Yes," Caelum inclined his wings. "I wish the sparkling to have a well-rounded protoform influence. Including from outside the trine for select qualities."

 _That_ made their wings flick and Starscream cocked his head at them. 

"Protoform influence from outside the trine is a common practice," he said mildly, with a very dangerous set to his own wings. 

They looked at each other again--a lifetime of familiarity there as they communicated rapidly and silently through a mix of comms, expressions, and wing movement. "Within the bounds of a trine-trine-trine network, or with other Seekers if necessary," Windcatcher finally said, and looked back to Caelum. "Since we have no network, do you plan to remain with Seekers? We won't have grounders involved."

"While I have no personal issue with involving non-Seekers, be they Aerial, grounder or otherwise, I find it a reasonable limitation to restrict donors to Seekers and Sierki," Caelum laid it out for them in both personal and political terms. "I do intend to discuss outside donors with the trine before approaching them."

"That is agreeable," Windcatcher said. "Provided that there are no grounder frames or sparks in its direct lineage, we will care for and protect any you carry like it is one of our-our-our own." 

"I would expect so, as it _will_ be one of your own," Starscream said. "He is _my_ mate, so any he carries would be the creations of _your_ Vision." 

Their wings lifted at the subtle phrasing in the statement. "Have you ... made a-a-a choice?" Crest asked, barely able to hold back the hope in his voice. 

~What do you think?~ Starscream asked Caelum. ~I like them. They are at least familiar with my less desirable qualities so nothing will come as a complete shock.~

~They have passed all quality and belief checks for me. I am fine with them,~ Caelum replied with a slight smile.

Starscream fiddled with his cube for a klik, canting his wings in visible indecision. "You _do_ fly well," he said, sounding like it was a difficult admittance to make. 

"By all the currents in the sky, Starscream, stop playing us," Crest growled. "You-you-you know what's at stake here." 

"Yes, _my_ personal happiness," Starscream said mildly, and stood. "Mm, come back tomorrow. I might know by then." 

Crest looked like he wanted to snarl and strike but Windcatcher's hand on his wing held him back easily. Caelum felt how impressed Starscream was by that and then felt the mischievous flicker as the pair took off. 

~What are you planning?~ he asked. 

Starscream shot him a smirk. ~Hope you're ready to push yourself,~ he said, and pinged his mate a set of coordinates before he leaped upwards and rocketed straight towards the departing pair. They split away just in time to avoid a collision, and then Starscream's challenging trill easily pulled them into the chase.

Caelum shook his helm, his wings twitching in amusement as he launched himself. By preference it was a launch outward rather than upward that created a freefall for a moment as he transformed and his engines powered up enough to fly. It was a slow process, and early on it had been stressful for Starscream to watch, but Caelum found it the easiest, if not the most logical way to transition the power from his processors and tac-net to his engines. Strangely enough, the low-ratio glide was soothing and the easiest for him to pull into powered flight from.

He knew he didn't stand a chance of keeping up with the three Seekers physically, so he monitored the loops and dives of their flight through a mix of radar and an open comm line with Starscream to provide his coordinates. Over the bond, he could get a sense of the thrill that this was giving his mate as the three danced--yes, danced, he decided--through the sky. 

Working together, Windcatcher and Crest even came close to catching Starscream a few times as the Vision deftly led them closer to the coordinates he'd pinged Caelum. Skywarp _had_ been the perfect Action for the mouthy, too-fast-for-his-own-good, independent Vision. No matter how fast Starscream went, Skywarp could jump faster. This Action would be pushed to his limits if he wanted to have any manner of control over his Vision. 

Yes, _his_ Vision, Caelum realized. Starscream had made his choice. Now he was just having fun. With a teasing burst of tolerant chiding and good humor over the bond, Caelum headed for the coordinates Starscream had given him and waited for the about-to-be-trine to arrive. He could see the lights from their alt modes flashing high above him and felt the same thrill as Starscream when he was forced into a tight bank between the two that ended with Crest managing to get him in a target lock, even if just for a second, and then all three turned and it became a race for the ground. 

Starscream landed first, just barely getting into root mode before slamming into the ground with Crest on top of him, pinning him down onto his back. Windcatcher was there a moment later to hold his shoulder vents down to the ground and all three frames were panting heavily. 

"Went easy on you," Starscream said. 

"No," Crest growled. "You didn't." 

"Admit it," Windcatcher snarled, wings flared high and aggressive. Caelum shifted warily, ready to intervene, but over the bond, Starscream was calm, excited only in a good way.

"Tell me when you surprised me," Starscream countered. 

Windcatcher's wings flicked and he rolled his optics. "When I stalled and forced you to bank to avoid hitting me," he said. "It gave Crest enough time to get behind." 

Starscream grinned. "Fine," he said. "I didn't go easy on you."

"You are _our_ Vision," Windcatcher rumbled. "Your creations will be mine."

Starscream answered by tilting his head back, baring his neck up to them as his cockpit moved away. "My Order, my leader," he said as they moved in above him. "My Action, my protector. My creations will be yours to keep and guard. My spark is yours to kindle with, have it now."

The pair trembled at the invitation, and Caelum felt his own excitement spike independent of the _pleasure-desire-safe-happy-want_ pouring off his mate.

"We will," the pair spoke in unison as their cockpits and armor folded away, exposing a deep burnished red spark and a sky-blue one to the pale yellow of Starscream's. All three reached out, eager and driven by coding as much as desire for the merge that would help set the trine coding in place and end the humiliating glitches all three suffered.

Off to the side Caelum watched for a moment, then trilled a low "I'll guard" glyph to them before taking off to circle the shattered mountaintop.

He was still patrolling when they parted suddenly and took off into the sky, only this time, the flight was smooth and coordinated. Caelum knew from Starscream that this was an announcement flight, one that would last well into the next orn. The three would spend that time getting to know each other's flight patterns and preferences, flying until they were forced to land and recharge, when the coding changes would fully set. 

Very soon, news of the new trine would spread and what was left of the trineless Seekers would be faced with some very hard choices. 

But for now, the night was peaceful, and the flight-dance was beautiful.

* * *

~If you get decked for this, you deserve it,~ Caelum pointed out dryly as he sat at Starscream's right, with Windcatcher to Starscream's left and Crest beyond him. While not at the outside of the rooftop banquette with the lowest ranking trines, they were no longer at the center with the rulers and the guests of honor. This orn the trine celebrating the bonding of its Order and Action was the special guest and the center of attention. Sharing the center was the Trine Elect of Thundercracker, Brainstorm and Dogfight. Thundercracker had been overwhelmingly approved as Air Commander and the Vosian representative during the first round of internal elections, and he served the post faithfully. 

No one had been surprised when Acid Storm and Novastorm announced their impending spark-bonding, and in an effort to pull some of their culture out of their nearly-lost history, they had decided to hold a public ceremony. It had been ages and lifetimes since a sparkbonding had been witnessed by the Trine Elect, much less by the general population, but there were so few of them left that anything they could grasp onto from the past was to be treasured. 

~I'm _not_ going to get decked for this,~ Starscream said, rolling his optics as he watched the newly bonded pair purring all over each other. ~I bring news of _joy_.~

~You are intentionally taking the focus off those who should have it,~ Caelum shrugged internally. ~Though I suppose your news would render you all but immune to immediate retaliation.~

~Oh please, they've had their moment in the spotlight,~ Starscream said, very obviously waiting for _his_ exact right moment. ~Look at them. I'm probably going to be doing them a _favor_ , the way they're fawning over each other in public like that. Embarrassing.~

~And when we did exactly that, and far more?~ Caelum said an optic ridge at him.

~We never looked like _that_ ,~ Starscream said, incredibly dubious. The newly bondeds were nuzzling their helms and noses together and petting each other's wings as they trilled to each other. ~...Did we?~

~I seem to recall much more, particularly in the metacycles after my rebuild,~ Caelum teased him with a few choice mental images of a very fawningly affectionate Starscream out in public. It was a mark of how much he'd changed, that he didn't consider having Starscream walk him through the Ark's hallways after a four joor mating flight in the same category.

Starscream groaned. ~Primus below we were _worse_. You make me forget my senses, mech.~ 

~Thank you,~ Caelum purred with no small amount of pride.

Starscream seemed to spot his break in the activity and downed the rest of his energon, standing with a single, clear, _look-at-me!_ chirp.

To no surprise, Thundercracker's optics found him first and blue wings lifted in a silent but very visible warning not to disrupt the celebration. Others looked at Starscream with a mixture of expressions ranging to curious to wary to suspicious to Windcatcher's startled wing-flick.

Starscream, predictably, ignored all of it in favor of fluttering out his wings as he made a show of readying himself to speak. His trinemates' growing dread was easy to teek. 

"As you are no doubt all aware," he began proudly, "Caelum has kindled and is carrying the first Sierki twins. However, what you _don't_ know is that I, _Starscream_ , have also kindled. Pure Seeker sparks and confirmed triplets, I will be bringing the first of the Seekerlings back into the world."

Windcatcher and Crest looked somewhere between determined to protect their Vision and utterly terrified of the higher-ranking Seekers they knew they had no hope against if any took offense. Something that the newly bonded pair's Vision most definitely was, if his wings were any indication. Crest set his wings in a firm warning and gave a low growl, and the tension in the gathering skyrocketed. 

"The second clutch," Thundercracker corrected him casually, as calm as ever, making Starscream twitch as Dogfight shifted to shield Brainstorm a bit more with his wings, drawing attention to the introverted inventor. "Brainstorm's triplets will be migrating within the metacycle."

A moment of silence as Starscream worked for words, and quiet mirth danced over Thundercracker's face as he watched an expression he was intimately familiar with. Windcatcher and Crest didn't seem to even know what to do with themselves but the Air Commander's calm wings seemed to be helping them relax. Caelum didn't even try to hide the snickers of amusement at having his bonded stymied.

"I have _got_ to ask you for some tips," Windcatcher finally said, breaking the silence, and triggering the deflation of the sharp tension that had built among the Seekers. Starscream gave an indignant squawk that just made Thundercracker laugh, and then he managed to gather himself enough to cant his wings to Brainstorm in congratulations. The introvert canted back in acceptance and congratulations in return.

Thundercracker gave Caelum a smile of approval, then looked at Windcatcher. "Anytime we can get together, I'd be happy to. He's quite the handful."

Starscream's helm snapped around to glare at his Order. "Don't you dare," he warned. 

"I'm free next orn," Windcharger said, grinning hugely. 

Starscream gave a disgusted scoff and threw his hands up in exasperation before sitting back down, and then everyone's attention was on Brainstorm as excited chattering about the news of Seekerlings overtook the room. 

"Please, I ... this orn is for Acid Storm and Novastorm," the quiet Vision murmured as his wings canted demurely. "There will be plenty of news about the Seekerlings later."

"Are you kidding?" Acid Storm grinned in delight. "Seekerlings are _far_ more a reason to celebrate than the bonding of a pair mated for ages. Six Seekerlings and two kin within the vorn. It's about time we got back to _living_ and the future."

Brainstorm blushed out to his wingtips but smiled, clearly glowing with the joy of being a carrier. "We thought so too," he said, and reached over to rub the wings of his agitated Action, who was finding all the attention of former enemies on his carrying Vision to be less than enjoyable. 

~Oh please, like _anyone_ would believe that shy act,~ Starscream grumbled.

~You know as well as anyone how accurate it is,~ Caelum smirked at his bonded. ~You're just bent out of shape because they stole your thunder. It serves you right for trying to steal it from the bonded couple.~

Starscream huffed and sulked and watched dourly as Brainstorm answered question after question about the newsparks, what their designations were, what it was like, if they'd been able to find literature on the proper supplements to take. It went on and on, excited chattering that created a near din until Thundercracker's gaze went back to Starscream and he stood, holding his hand out to the other Vision. "Starscream," he said, catching his former trinemate's attention, and he smiled. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you. All four of you," he added, looking to Caelum and Starscream's trine. "And this way, they'll have other Seekerlings to play with." 

Starscream perked at the attention, his mood lightening somewhat.

"You are such an attention whoring prima donna," Caelum chuckled lightly. 

"I am not," Starscream snipped back at him. 

"Yes you are," the entire room answered, and Starscream's jaw dropped open. 

Caelum stroked his bonded's wing, chuckling. "Thank you, Thundercracker. It will be good that both sets will have agemates outside their nest."

"It will," Thundercracker said as he sat back down and turned to dote on his Vision. "It really will."

**Author's Note:**

> nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter
> 
> Starscream's spike design inspired by. NSFW, account required to view.  
> http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11878902/  
> http://www.furaffinity.net/view/6605119/
> 
> Dead mecha: Megatron, Skywarp, Shockwave, Motormaster.


End file.
